Karaoke
by sailor8t
Summary: Just because Maura and Jane aren't talking doesn't mean they can't go to karaoke with everyone.
1. Chapter 1

Rizzoli and Isles are owned by Tess Gerritsen and Janet Tamaro and TNT. I'm altering their realities for fun, not profit, as I own nothing and have the credit report to prove it. _I Don't Want Anything to Change_ is copyright Maia Sharp, Liz Rose, and Stephanie Chapman, and is also used without permission or profit. I love Bonnie Raitt, and she and Lyle Lovett did this together on _Crossroads_ and it's been stuck in my filter.

* * *

Jane hated karaoke night, but could find no way out of it. Her voice was terrible, and it was hard to find a song suited to it, and then it took a couple – four, actually – strong drinks to get her on the stage after everyone, even shy Maura, took a turn. Maura did respectably well, and Jane applauded and whistled for her, just like she did her other colleagues.

And then it was her turn.

Sleepless nights aren't so bad  
I'm staying up, I'm staying sad  
I don't want anything to change  
I don't want anything to change  
I like it lonely, I like it strange  
I don't want anything to change

While she sang, Jane found her eyes going to Maura more than appropriate, and made herself look at the far wall. She knew this song well, and didn't need to watch the screen for the lyrics.

You left a mess, you're everywhere  
I'd pick it up, but I don't dare  
I don't want anything to change  
There's nothing I would rearrange  
I don't want anything to change

Maybe this wasn't such a good choice. But Maura hadn't let her apologize any other way. Maura hadn't said a thing to her outside of work, and there, it was clear that the Medical Examiner was speaking to a homicide detective in a strictly professional capacity. There were no lunches, no drinks after work, no Rizzoli family dinners, no sarcasm or teasing, and no long explanations about everything.

I can feel you fading  
But until you're gone  
I'm taking all the time I can borrow  
The getting over is waiting  
But I won't move on  
And I'm gonna wanna feel the same tomorrow

Jane hadn't felt this bad since the first time her heart was broken.

I know the truth is right outside  
But for the moment, it's best denied  
I don't want anything to change  
I can feel you fading  
But until you're gone  
I'm taking all the time I can borrow  
The getting over is waiting  
But I won't move on  
And I'm gonna wanna feel the same tomorrow

And I don't want anything to do  
With what comes after you  
I don't want anything to change  
I don't want anything to change  
I don't want anything to change

Jane finished and put the microphone down and walked outside. As the door closed, she heard loud applause, but it didn't matter. She'd either made a complete ass of herself in front of people who would take every opportunity to tease her, or she'd bared her heart to the woman she loved in front of the people who supported them every day.

Her long legs carried her into the parking lot. She knew she shouldn't drive, but she could just sit there and try to muster up some self-respect so she could face the others.

She didn't hear Maura behind her, didn't realize she was there until she turned to sit on the hood of her car and Maura bowled her over. Jane's arms went around her automatically and she inhaled deeply. She needed this, just holding Maura, to keep her life on some kind of even keel.

Maura's hands held Jane's face while she kissed her, and after she abruptly separated them. "We need to talk," she said breathlessly.

"I know." Jane sounded resigned.

"We're not good at it."

"No," Jane admitted, "we're not."

"Will you go with me to see someone?"

"God, Maura, I'm all ready seein' the department shrink."

"You don't actually talk to him," Maura pointed out.

"We talk about baseball and bad guys."

"For me. Please, Jane. I don't want to lose the best thing in my life because I don't know how to tell you what I need."

"Just say it." Maura had been trying to pull away, but Jane held her firmly. "Whatever it is. The worst I'm gonna do is say no."

"What I need from you right now is for you to agree to accompany me to a therapist."

"All right," Jane sighed eventually. "If we're done fighting, please take me home." She offered her keys. "I'm way too drunk to drive."

-30-


	2. Chapter 2

Jane pushed through the door at precisely 8 a.m., still wearing sunglasses.

Frost grinned at her, and that couldn't possibly be good. "You're famous."

"If I'm famous, why isn't there coffee on my desk?"

"Because your girlfriend is a few steps behind you this morning. And don't take your hangover out on Frost. It's not his fault you drank so much last night."

Jane, hungover and caffeine deprived, needed several seconds to process everything the M.E. said. Korsak was biting his lip, and Frost was still grinning, and Maura was her girlfriend. Pleasant as it was for Jane to hear, two things that didn't compute came to her attention. 'That's why I'm a detective,' she thought smugly. First, whenever Korsak and Frost, or any of the men they worked around, thought about Maura being Jane's girlfriend, they got an identical expression on their faces, and this wasn't it. Second, by the end of the work day, everyone would have confirmation of longstanding suspicions, and money would exchange hands. She took her coffee. "Thank you."

"Jane's famous."

"I read the paper this morning. She was not mentioned."

"You think too small, Dr. Isles," Frost answered.

Jane, after only two sips, caught on ahead of Maura. "Oh no," she groaned. There wasn't enough aspirin in Massachusetts to ease her headache. She lowered her glasses and glowered at Frost. "If anyone followed us outside, his personal safety is on the line."

"But you were incredible!" Korsak said, his smile finally showing. "It's you singing. Nothing more. Except almost a million hits since it went up this morning. I didn't know you could sing."

"I can't. Who videoed me and how did it get online? That's a complete invasion of my privacy." She meant to sound angry, but needed a lot more caffeine to pull it off.

"I used my phone to record you," Maura admitted. "But I didn't send it anywhere, and it's been with me."

"Why, Maura?"

"You were so beautiful, but it's only for me. I've had my phone the whole time."

"Ok." She sipped coffee again, glad Maura got a large, and turned to Frost. "So where did it come from?"

"I'm working on it, but whoever it is knows a little about covering tracks online."

"What's the problem, Janie?"

"Fucked-up, bored, serial killer sits around thinking up new ways to kill me."

"It was all cops there last night. And maybe you should take a personal day or somethin' if you're just gonna be bitchy."

Jane gave Korsak the death glare. Frost became extremely interested in his computer. Maura watched the interaction, fascinated by what was happening. Korsak looked back, his features intentionally blank.

"Maybe I should," Jane grumbled, and turned back to Maura. "Let's play hooky."

"I never did that."

"Today's the day to start," she smiled.

Maura smiled back. "Educate me, Detective."

"Get a room, you two," Korsak said. "I'll tell the Lieutenant," he called after Jane flipped him off while herding Maura toward the door. He had a feeling that Maura didn't have to ask anyone to take time off unless it was more than a week.

"That's why I hate karaoke," Jane said while they walked down the stairs.

"Because it made you an Internet sensation?"

"Yes. I don't like all that attention for a stupid reason."

"Do you even believe there's a good reason to give you attention?" Maura asked with exasperation. "You did something amazing. It's far better than someone catching you shooting someone."

"Don't go there," Jane threatened.

"I'm just saying." Maura clicked a button on her remote and their doors unlocked. Once they were in, Maura asked, "So what does playing hooky entail?"

"First," Jane replied, "you start the car and drive it away. To the right when you leave the parking lot."

Maura couldn't remember ever being in this part of Boston before, but Jane took her into an old, dark bar. She knew they were near the water by the increased number of seagulls and the occasional far-off slap of water as they walked. Maura wished she changed her shoes, but managed to keep up with Jane's slower than normal pace.

Jane sat at a table while Maura looked askance at their surroundings.

"Just sit down. I've been here dozens of times. It's perfectly safe as long as you stay out of the bathroom."

"Oh, that's encouraging," Maura answered, but pulled the chair nearest Jane out enough to slide into it.

A voice from the bar area asked what they needed, and Jane ordered two bloody marys and two big breakfasts, and returned to bitching. "You know Frankie's gonna show it to Ma."

"Jane, you can't do anything about it. And here's some advice from your socially maladapted friend: When people say something nice, just say thank you. It saves time and aggravation on both sides."

"Where'd you learn that lesson?"

"Graduate school. The first time. It made the second time much, much easier."

"Huh." Alcohol. Thank God. "Keep these coming."

"Both virgin next time, please," Maura added.

"Are you tryin' to kill me?"

"Exactly the opposite. Oh, this is nice."

"Uh huh. Goes great with breakfast."

"That's wonderful, but I can't imagine how getting drunk first thing in the morning"

"We're not, and we won't be. Just go with it, all right?" Jane removed the sunglasses and rubbed her temples. "Got any aspirin in there?"

"Yes."

"I bet you were a Girl Scout."

"No, I was not." Maura handed a small foil packet to Jane.

When she still didn't have it open by the time Maura finished with her bag, she took it back and tore it open. She dropped the tablets into Jane's waiting palm. "Do you often have trouble with that?"

"Sometimes." Meaning all the time, but she was trying to improve her mood. What could they do to play hooky from work? None of the places she went as a teenager were suitable, even if they still existed. "What museum haven't you been to?" Jane put her sunglasses back. Even the dim light in the bar was too much for her bare eyes.

"I haven't really been anywhere."

"You're kiddin'."

"No, the only places I've been are because of work or you."

"This is great," Jane grinned. "Hide in plain sight."

"Did I miss something?"

"Nope. We're gonna join the tourists, and you can see Olde Boston."

"Really?"

"Sure. The whole thing's pretty amazing, actually. A buncha guys drinkin' in the corner bar decided they weren't going to take any more shit from a greedy bastard, and it turned out that everybody else was tired of it, too, and too scared to be the first to speak up, and after many long, boring afternoons in history class, here we are."

"You do actually know more than that, don't you?"

"Yes," Jane answered indignantly.

"I'm never sure whether you're kidding."

"I'll keep that in mind." As if she didn't all ready know. Like it wasn't one of the things that put them in this situation. She rubbed her temples again.

"What we talked about last night," Maura began.

Jane put up her hand. "Not now, ok?"

"Is that, not now, I have a hangover, or not now, we'll get to it eventually."

"Hangover."

"All right." Maura said. She sat and admired Jane, not quite dozing behind her shades, and both of them jumped when the first plate was slapped on the table.

Three more followed, and Maura stared, estimating the calories and how many miles she'd have to run to work them off.

Jane had no such reservations. She dug in immediately, paused to add salt and pepper, and yelled, "Ketchup!" over her shoulder.

Maura ducked involuntarily when she saw the bottle in the air, and stared again after Jane reached up and caught it without looking. "How did you do that?"

"Practice." A glob of ketchup was propelled onto her plate, and two more smacks brought out enough. Jane turned the bottle upright and offered it to Maura.

"No, thank you."

Jane put it down and went back to eating. She realized Maura wasn't, and stopped, a full fork between the plate and her mouth. "Something wrong?"

"Oh, no. I'm sure it's delicious."

"Then eat some," Jane urged.

To please Jane, Maura tasted her eggs. It was all over. Soon, her plates were nearly empty. Her mouth wanted more, but there was nowhere for it to go. Jane, slouched back in her chair with the last of her bloody mary, looked at Maura over her sunglasses. "Ready to be a tourist?"

"I don't think I can move," Maura groaned.

Jane laughed and emptied her glass. She stood up, pulled a wad of cash from her pocket and dropped bills on the table. "C'mon," she grinned, and pulled at Maura's arm.

They spent the day walking through the oldest part of town after Maura changed into a pair of flats she kept in the car. The cobbles were uneven, and the heels Maura favored would result in a broken ankle, or more, should she stumble. Not that Jane would allow that to happen. She was right there with Maura all day, for the first time in what felt like forever. Jane silenced her phone without looking when it rang and waited patiently while Maura asked questions. She even managed to answer a few.

At five o'clock buildings closed and the flood of people diminished. Things were suddenly awkward. "It's gnocchi night, you wanna come?" Jane asked.

"I'd love to," Maura smiled. She missed Angela's cooking, and the warmth and affection in the household, even when voices were raised. "We should get some wine."

"You know Ma's gonna blow a gasket when she finds out how much you pay for that wine."

"She won't find out unless you tell her." She fell in step with Jane.

"I'm not tellin' her anything."

Something in Jane's tone sucked the warmth from around them.

"No, I suppose you aren't." Maura paused, not wanting to ask. Her need to know overrode common sense. "Is this a way to avoid talking?"

"No." Jane stopped, and grabbed Maura's shoulder, and turned her so they were face to face. "I want you to come to family dinner all the time."

"Today. And tomorrow you'll want something different."

"I won't. It's just dinner, ok, not some big conspiracy."

Maura wanted to believe her, and studied her expression, seeking the physical tells of deception. They weren't there. "All right." Maura turned and headed for the car, and after a few steps heard Jane hurrying to catch up.


	3. Chapter 3

"Hey, Ma." Jane entered the kitchen and kissed her mother's cheek. "Smells good."

"You're early."

"We played hooky from work today," Maura reported from the doorway.

Angela put down the spoon and circled the table to hug her. "Maura! Jane didn't say you were coming."

"I brought wine."

"Thank you. Jane, get the corkscrew. Did you say you played hooky?"

"Yes. It was," Maura paused, "enlightening."

"She didn't take you to the gun range did she?"

"No, though that's an excellent idea."

"Not gonna happen," Jane answered. "You have all those shiny, sharp things to play with." She struggled with the corkscrew.

Maura heard her tone, and got up. She took the bottle from Jane. "Why do you insist on doing that?"

Jane tried to take it back. "I can open a bottle of wine."

Maura glared at her. Angela was surprised to see that it cowed Jane, even if it was only a little, and went back to the stove so she could watch without seeming to stare.

Jane let go of the bottle and started getting glasses. She lined them up on the counter while Maura uncorked the bottle. She put it down and worked the cork free of the screw, then poured three glasses. Jane left the room.

Maura stayed in the kitchen for several minutes, chatting with Angela, before going in search of Jane. She found her on the front stoop, silently rubbing her scars. "I'm sorry I hurt your feelings."

"I can open a bottle of wine, Maura."

"I know you can, but it hurts you."

Jane shrugged.

"I don't want anything to hurt you."

Jane bit her tongue. All day, they had these moments when they were almost normal again, like _before_. It didn't keep her from thinking of inappropriate answers: "Like you?" or "What difference does it make?" or "What the fuck do you care?"

"Please come in."

"I'm waitin' for Pop."

"Can I wait with you?"

Jane shook her head. She still needed a little distance from Maura, time to let her temper cool and her emotions settle before she said something to make things worse.

Maura stood and watched her for a few seconds more, hoping Jane would change her mind.

She didn't. "I'll come in when Pop gets home."

Maura knew a dismissal when she heard it. She was familiar with the tone and the casual promise of later that probably wouldn't come. She went back into the kitchen and pitched in to help Angela with dinner.

Frank Rizzoli was surprised when he pulled into his driveway. He couldn't remember the last time he came home from work to find his only daughter waiting on the step. It used to be fights with her brothers or mother that sent her there.

"Janie, did you argue with your mother again?" he asked while slowly sitting beside her.

"Nah, Ma's happy with me for the moment."

"So why are you out here? And isn't that Maura's car?"

"Yeah," Jane sighed, and started working her hands, the exercises second nature by now.

"Did you have a fight with Maura?"

"Not exactly."

"I can't help if you won't tell me what's wrong." He put his arm around her, surprised again when she leaned into him and sighed. "It'll work out," he said encouragingly, and squeezed her.

"Thanks."

They sat for a few minutes, until Frankie arrived, and they all went inside.

It was a quieter than usual family dinner. Jane was subdued, and none of her brother's jabs roused her. Maura noted the worried look that Angela gave to Frank, and his hand waving away her concerns.

They left early, with leftovers, as usual, and were quiet in the car, despite Maura's efforts. She pulled into a parking spot in front of Jane's building and put the car in park, but didn't turn it off. "May I come in?"

"Yeah, you know you're welcome any time."

"Thank you."

Jane reached into the back seat and got their leftovers before getting out of the car. She waited for Maura before heading up the walk. Maura followed her to the kitchen. She watched Jane put the leftovers in the refrigerator, get a beer, and use the wall-mounted opener. Jane pulled a wineglass down and gestured toward the rack on the counter. "Help yourself," she said, and pulled open a drawer to get the corkscrew. She put it in front of the bottles.

"I didn't intend to upset you."

"No, you just made me look like a child in front of my mother."

"I'm sure she didn't interpret it that way."

Jane rolled her eyes and swigged her beer.

"Why is this so hard?" Maura asked. She slipped off the stool and approached Jane, who held out her arm to stop her from getting too close, a physical manifestation of her behavior over the past hours. "Was it always hard?" she asked.

"Yeah, it was." They talked for hours about things that made little difference in the scheme of things, or about the case they were working, but never about anything important, not in detail. Sometimes Jane would let something slip, or Maura would mention something from her life, and they were on the same page. They didn't think to go deeper. It didn't seem necessary, and there were things that neither of them wanted to share. Ever.

"It didn't seem that way."

"I remember."

"I think I should go."

"That's up to you."

Jane's bed. Sunshine. Rumpled sheets, clothes on the floor where they landed. Maura stopped herself and looked up at Jane. "Do you want me to stay?"

"I want you to feel like you don't have to ask."

Better than yes, if she meant it, but Maura, adept as she was at decoding micro-expressions, couldn't tell. It was another sign to her that something basic wasn't working between them. She read Jane easily after a few months, but Jane's poker face was impressive and sometimes stymied her. This wasn't Jane's poker face, but something new that didn't match any frame of reference.

"Maura?" After almost two minutes, she pulled Maura from her internal digression.

"What? Sorry."

"Will you stay?"

A direct request was something different, and Maura couldn't turn it down. "Yes."

"Can we move to the couch, then?"

"Certainly," Maura answered, and turned toward the counter, relieved, because Jane didn't decide that what happened earlier was enough reason to renege on her promise to talk.

Jane got another beer from the refrigerator and went out to sit in her corner of the couch. She turned on the television, but kept the volume low while she went through the channels. Maura got a beer from the refrigerator and picked up the empty wineglass on her way to join her.

Jane turned off the television when Maura arrived. "I had fun today."

"I did, too. I wasn't certain what to expect."

"Well, now you've played hooky. Next time, you can figure out what to do."

"That seems fair."

They sat for a few minutes in uncomfortable silence. It was new and awkward and could only get worse.

"Dinner was good."

"Ma was happy to see you."

"I'm always happy to see them, Jane."

"Makes one of us."

"Balderdash."

"What?"

"Baloney."

Jane looked at her for a few seconds. Maura couldn't just say bullshit when she was calling someone, usually Jane, on it. "I love 'em, but they get on my nerves sometimes."

"Is that how you feel about me?"

Jane bought time by drinking some beer. She was acutely aware that Maura was watching her. Examining her, actually. Sometimes it was a bitch to have a girlfriend who could tell when she lied. "It's not the same, Maura."

"Why can't you just tell me how you feel?"

"Why can't you?" Jane countered. They hadn't broken up, but it felt that way sometimes.

It was Maura's turn to stall. Adept as she was at spotting lies, she couldn't tell them herself. Recent improvement at manipulating words into something that wasn't completely truthful wasn't going to get her out of this. This was why they needed a mediator. Maura felt Jane become impatient and made her hands into a T. "Timeout."

"You can't call timeout."

"We need to." Maura lowered her hands.

"What? Why?" The pitch of Jane's voice rose as panic set in. "I said I'd go with you. What else do you want?"

"Not from us. Just from the conversation. I don't want to fight."

"I don't want to fight, either."

"So I should go."

"I don't want you to." Jane wanted a complete night's sleep, something she had a greater chance of having if Maura stayed. She'd been running on a sleep deficit since that night.

Maura studied Jane again. She looked more tired than usual, dark rings obvious under her eyes. She fiddled with her hands more today than she had in ages. There was danger in staying, almost as much as in going. Either way, she would spend the bulk of the night reviewing the day. She could get a t-shirt, too, one that still smelled like Jane, that made it easier to fall asleep when she was alone. Maura realized she was overthinking everything when she heard Jane.

"Please?"

Jane's voice was quiet, her tone a little desperate. "I'll stay," Maura answered immediately.


	4. Chapter 4

Two hours later, Maura was still awake. Jane's head was on her shoulder, Jane's leg over Maura's. One arm was draped over Maura, and Jane's fingers occasionally twitched against her hip. Jane's other hand held some of Maura's hair.

In the dim light, Jane was all angles and planes, except for her hair. It felt wonderful to hold her again. Jane was deeply asleep, her breathing slow and regular, her eyelids twitching in REM sleep. There were too many nights that Maura feared this would never happen again, that she would have to leave Boston because there was no way she could see Jane without wanting her, or hear her without automatically looking her way, or be close without touching her.

They had so much to work through. Maura wasn't even sure where they should begin. Feelings were so much harder to understand than bodies. Everything on and in a corpse was definitively quantifiable. Even the unseen could be located and identified via lab tests that answered questions from 'how drunk was the idiot who killed himself and two friends by driving into a tree at a high rate of speed' to 'why is the victim blue?'

Unfortunately, there were no lab tests that could answer the questions they struggled with. All Maura knew for certain was that at her angriest with Jane, she wished her no ill; in the time since that night, she was confused, bereft, and uncertain. Jane mumbled something, and Maura murmured that it was all right.

She would begin searching for a therapist tomorrow. Maura was amazed that Jane agreed to go, and her agreement answered a fundamental question for Maura. Jane wanted this relationship, wanted her, and was willing to put in the work to make it happen.

Maura wanted things to change, too. She was tired of being angry with Jane. Maura couldn't help it; it bubbled up at seemingly random times. Like today, after hours of it being like it used to, when Jane asked her to dinner, or the spat over the wine bottle. Even when they were alone together, the tension was thick with things they both wanted to say but didn't.

If she closed her eyes, things could be perfect again for a while, Maura decided, and that was what she did.

Maura woke alone, but smelled coffee. She put on her robe and went to the kitchen. A mug sat by the coffee maker, a note under it. Jane went out to pick up something for breakfast, since all she had was spoiled milk and stale Cheerios, although the cream was still ok.

Maura was dressed when Jane returned with bagels and cream cheese. She left them in the kitchen with Maura and went to shower and dress for the day, and returned shortly. When she got back, Maura had coffee waiting and a bagel in the toaster, which she started when Jane came into the kitchen.

"Thanks," Jane said, and picked up her coffee.

"You're welcome. Thanks for getting breakfast."

She nodded back and leaned against the counter by the toaster.

"We have yoga tonight."

"I know."

"Would you like to have dinner before?"

"Sure."

"There's a new Indian place on the way."

"Sounds good." Jane's bagel popped up, and she put it on the plate Maura left there for her and moved to the table with her coffee. "Thanks for staying."

"You're welcome." She felt like an adolescent again, more gawky and uncertain than now. They didn't used to be like this. "Do you want to ride with me?"

"Yeah. I just need to get my stuff together." Jane started to get up from the table.

Maura stopped her. "There's no rush."

"Don't we have to go by your place?"

"Yes, but we have plenty of time."

"All right." Jane sat down again and took another bite of her bagel. They were still tense this morning, though less than last night. When she woke early, getting breakfast was an excuse to leave Maura rather than watching her sleep or kissing her awake. She was tired of always saying or doing the wrong thing and having to battle her instinctive reaction to say fuck it and jet.

She wanted them to get back to being comfortable with each other, instead of angry and guilty, or guilty and hurt, or hurt all around. She was tired of not sleeping and tired of giving in, and every time she started to get angry with Maura, she saw her terrified face blocking out the sky.

Everyone around them felt it, too, and verbally prodded Jane to apologize to Maura, as if what was going on between them was completely her fault. She glanced at Maura, checking messages on her phone, and away before Maura noticed.

It was a regular workday, except that Jane and Frost were out, so Maura ate alone at her desk. A little after 4 p.m., Jane appeared in the autopsy suite. She didn't say anything, just went into Maura's office and sat at the small table Maura surrendered to Jane's cold case files and opened the newest one.

"Is everything all right?" Maura asked.

"Uh huh," Jane answered distractedly as she went through the file again from the beginning.

Maura couldn't get a clear look at her face and accepted Jane at her word, despite her doubts. She returned to her own paperwork, reviewing report after report and approving or returning them.

Promptly at 5 p.m., Maura shut down her computer. Jane closed the file and returned it to its' place, then stood and stretched.

Over dinner, Maura told Jane about the therapist she selected. Their first appointment was in a week; there was a questionnaire she wanted both of them to complete and return before.

After yoga, Maura took Jane home and left her with the questionnaire. Jane got a beer and leaned on the kitchen counter while she looked at it. She didn't want to think about the questions, much less answer them, but she knew that as soon as Maura was comfortable at home, she would be working on it.

She got another beer and a pen and began. Name, address, telephones, e-mail, gender, race, age, education, occupation. Medical history. Social history. What she expected to get out of therapy, and that question, the last, stopped her. Jane needed to think about how to express what she wanted.

Miles away, Maura was in the same situation. She didn't know what to expect from the experience, and wrote down what she hoped for: "Improved communication with my partner."

After finishing her second beer, Jane wrote, "I want us to be able to talk freely again." She decided against having a third beer, and went to bed. She tried to get comfortable and couldn't until she buried her face in the pillow Maura used the night before.

In the morning, she took coffee and the completed papers to the morgue. Maura came in a few minutes after she arrived, and smiled brightly at Jane. "Good morning. I see great minds think alike. I left your coffee on your desk."

"Well, we'll both be awake."

"Did you complete the questionnaire?"

In response, Jane held it out for her to take. Maura took a plain manila folder from her bag and gave it to Jane. They were quiet for several minutes as they read the other's answers. Maura finished first, but didn't look at Jane until Jane handed the pages back.

"We want the same thing," Maura said nervously.

"That's good, right?"

Maura nodded.

"Good." Jane stood up. "I gotta get to work."

"Can we have lunch?"

"As long as it doesn't involve anything from the dead fridge," Jane answered over her shoulder.

They didn't have lunch because there was a shooting in an office building, and missed dinner for the same reason. It was nearly 10 p.m. before Jane left the office. She was glad to see that Maura's car was gone and debated going to her house, but decided against it. She was hungry and tired, and wanted to wind down in front of the television for a while.

When she opened the refrigerator, it was obvious her mother had been there. Annoying as it was, it meant there was a big bowl of pasta with meat sauce. She filled a bowl, put it in the microwave, and put the big bowl back in the refrigerator.

She took her spaghetti and a soda to the couch, and turned on ESPN. She was about to put the first forkful in her mouth when Maura's ring tone came from her hip. "What's up?"

"Where are you?"

"On my couch, eatin' dinner."

"It's nearly eleven."

"I know. I'm hungry. We were busy with that mess downtown."

"But you're all right?"

"Yeah. No bumps, bruises, scratches or scrapes. Hey, you can't trade him, moron!" she yelled at the set. "Sorry," she added to Maura.

"I'll let you go."

"You don't have to."

"You must be tired."

"Yeah. I'm just tryin' to get settled down a little."

"If you can't sleep, you can call me. Or just come over."

"Ok. Thanks."

"I'll see you in the morning."

"I'll get coffee," Jane volunteered.

"Thank you. Good night."

"'Night, Maura." She ended the call and leaned deeper into her couch. Dinner and TV couldn't keep her from thinking about Maura, or from falling asleep.

The sound of a key turning in one of her locks woke Jane. She stood up, drew her weapon and pointed it at the door. She went to check through the peephole, and saw Maura.

Jane returned her weapon to her holster, undid the last lock, and opened the door. "Hi."

Maura startled. "Uh, hi."

"C'mon in." Jane stepped back and opened the door completely.

Maura entered, and Jane closed the door. Maura looked at her. "Have you been to bed?"

"Technically, no. I was crashed on the couch."

"That always gives you a stiff neck."

"Is everything ok?"

"I couldn't sleep," Maura admitted.

Jane covered a yawn with one hand and turned off the lights with the other, then pointed toward her bed.

While Maura got settled, Jane removed her badge and gun, and emptied her pockets. She sat on the bed and pulled off her boots, then laid down. Seconds later, Maura slid next to her. "I missed you today."

"Me too." Jane slid her arm under Maura and pulled her closer.

A few minutes later, they were both asleep, and stayed that way until Jane's alarm went off.

The bane of every government employee's existence, paperwork, bogged down the homicide unit on Friday. There were mounds of it to generate after yesterday's incident, as well as the usual forms for other cases. By lunchtime, Jane was sick of it, and she was glad to see Maura.

"Lunch?" Maura asked.

Korsak and Frost, as well as Jane, jumped up.

"Pizza," Korak suggested.

"Sandwiches," Frost countered.

"You two fight it out," Jane told them, and pushed Maura through the double doors before they could respond.

They walked three blocks to a café that Maura particularly liked and found a table. As far as Jane knew, none of her co-workers knew it existed. Maura had salad; Jane had soup and a sandwich, and the silence between them was comfortable for a change.

After lunch, they returned to their offices. Another two hours of paperwork was all Jane could stand without a break and she knew just the thing. After a brief walk, she returned to the bullpen and dropped Italian ice on Korsak's and Frost's desks, and headed downstairs with the rest.

"Cherry or lemon?" she asked Maura.

"Cherry," Maura decided, and Jane entered her office and handed her the cup. She sat at the work table, and Maura turned in her chair to face her. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

"Any particular reason for this?"

"I'm sick of paperwork."

"It has been quiet around here today."

"Everybody's tryin' to clear up that mess from yesterday."

"Fortunately, only one autopsy was required."

"Yeah, the shooter's. Didja find anything?"

"Nothing out of the ordinary, but the lab results aren't back yet."

"Great," Jane sighed. "Another garden variety whack job." She took a big spoonful of the lemon ice. "My grandma's is better."

"I'd love to meet her."

"You will. It's almost time for her annual visit." Jane snickered. "I love it. Nonna keeps Ma so tied up she doesn't have time to mess with me or Frankie for two weeks after she leaves."

"Whose mother is she?"

"Ma's. Pop's is dead, but my Pop-Pop is still alive. He moved to Florida a couple years ago, so we see him in the fall."

"Is your maternal grandfather alive?"

"No. Are your grandparents alive?"

"Not as far as I know. My adoptive parents' parents are deceased, and I haven't had a way to find my biological grandparents until recently. Frankly, I'm torn."

"Understandable. But if you want to find them, we will."

"Thank you."

They finished the treats in silence. Jane threw her trash into the can and looked at the clock. "I've had enough for one day. I'll be at the Robber."

"I'll come with you."

While Maura gathered her things, Jane called Frost. "We'll be at the Robber when you guys knock off," she told him, and hung up.

Because they were earlier than usual, their table was waiting. Jane got the first round, and when she was seated next to Maura, raised her bottle. "Thank god it's Friday," she said.

Maura tapped her glass, and they both drank.


	5. Chapter 5

Jane slapped the alarm and wondered again how Maura talked her into running the annual marathon with her. Maybe next year, the citizenry would help them finish in a reasonable amount of time by refraining from killing each other on the course. In the meantime, unless they were working, Saturday was for training.

Jane rolled out of bed and stumbled to the bathroom. Four aspirin and two glasses of water later, she washed her face, pulled her hair back, and returned to the bedroom to change. She was tying her sneakers when Maura let herself in.

"Please tell me you have coffee," Jane said.

"Of course not. I have water."

"I'm going to die," Jane groaned softly.

Maura gave her no sympathy. "I told you to stop drinking."

"I told you to stop drinking," Jane muttered in irritated imitation.

"You'll feel better once the endorphins kick in."

"You say that every week."

"Because I'm right. The sooner we go, the sooner they'll kick in."

As usual, Maura was right, and after six hours of jogging through Boston, Jane was tired and sore, but cheerful. Maura left her at the entrance to Jane's building. "Come over after you're cleaned up. I made dinner."

"Want me to bring anything?"

"I don't think so, but if I do, I'll call."

"Ok. See you soon."

Maura jogged off, and Jane went inside.

Three hours later, Jane knocked on Maura's door, and presented her with flowers when she opened the door.

"They're beautiful. Thank you." Maura moved out of the way, and once Jane was inside, closed and locked the door. She punched in the alarm code, then turned and smiled at Jane again. "Have a seat. I'll be right there."

Jane went into the living room. Two glasses of red wine sat on the coffee table, and Jane picked the one furthest from the bottle. Maura came in with the flowers in a vase and set them on the coffee table.

She sat on the couch. "Thank you again."

"You're welcome."

"Do you like the wine?"

"Yeah."

"Good. It goes very well with our meal."

"It smells great."

"Thank you. I think you'll like it."

"You're coming tomorrow, right?"

"Yes."

"Good. I'll pick you up."

"Thank you." Maura got up again. "I need to check on things."

"I'll be right here unless you want some help," Jane answered. They were fine when they separated at Jane's, and now they were those other people again, the ones who were afraid to say the wrong thing, so said nothing. She wondered what her mother would have to say tomorrow. She emptied her glass and refilled it, then sat back in the couch.

It was one of the things she liked about Maura's house; no matter how something looked, form followed function. The furniture was comfortable, the books arranged by subject and author, the kitchen set up so the cook could move easily from refrigerator to counter to stove to sink.

Maura returned. "Another half hour," she said.

"Good."

"You greatly improved your time today."

"Yay me."

"Indeed. I think we should try running the course once a month."

"The whole thing?"

"Yes."

"All right," Jane said doubtfully. After a second, she added, "How did you talk me into this again?"

"I merely asked."

"Right."

"Is that why our colleagues cough 'whipped' whenever I ask something and you agree?"

"Part of it," Jane sighed. They weren't teasing her now, and instead alternated between suggestions on how to fix things and sympathetic looks. The only reason she hadn't punched out the last three guys who suggested flowers and a romantic dinner was that they were trying to be nice. Nice wasn't usually part of her working relationships; she was one of the guys, took all their crap and gave as good as she got, didn't complain, and did her share of the scut work.

"What's the rest?"

"They like to give me a hard time."

"But they like you, don't they?"

"Most of 'em. It's just something the guys do." Jane, who grew up with brothers and ran around with them and their friends while she grew up, understood how men communicated.

"A bonding ritual?"

"I guess."

"Is that why you don't respond verbally?"

"Yeah, 'cause they'll keep it up if they think it gets to you."

"Why?"

"If I knew that, Maura, I wouldn't be a cop."

"I suppose not. What would you do if you could do anything?"

Jane shrugged. She hadn't thought about it since deciding she wouldn't bury her family in debt to get a college education, and hadn't thought about it seriously before then.

"You must have wanted to be something other than a police officer."

Jane shook her head. "Not really."

Maura didn't voice what she was thinking. What if Jane were injured in a way that she could no longer do her job? What would she do? Maura didn't want to start another argument, and she knew venturing into 'what if' would light Jane's fuse. Jane was very much of the moment; sometimes the way she ran hot and cold kept Maura flustered. "I considered law and astrophysics and theoretical mathematics, but biology always fascinated me."

"You would have been awesome at any of them."

"Thank you."

"I'm glad you picked what you did. Otherwise, I probably never would have met you."

"True. And I feel the same."

Jane's smile was relieved.

Maura popped up again. "I need to check everything once more. You should move to the table."

Jane followed her, and went right where Maura went left. The table was immaculately set for them, with linen and more matching plates, glasses, and cutlery than Jane owned. Maura was doing something nice for her. She was trying, too, just like Jane was, to hold on to what brought them together. Jane thought she was doing a pretty good job. Whatever dinner was smelled delicious. An intricate brass trivet waited for the container Maura brought in. She left the serving mitts and went back to the kitchen for her wine and the serving spoon.

It was something French that was the best beef stew Jane ever tasted. The wine, as Maura said, went perfectly with the meal. "This is amazing," Jane groaned happily, too busy eating to maintain conversation.

Maura smiled, recognizing the compliment. She decided against correcting Jane's manners. "Thank you." It was perfect. "If you like, I can do chicken next week."

"That sounds good," Jane smiled. Anything that glued them together was good right now. Even jogging, which she never liked and was growing to hate. Running for hours for no good reason, and Maura made her keep up so Jane couldn't even spend the time admiring Maura's form. More than once, Maura delivered a history lecture while they ran. It was incredibly annoying that Maura could keep a decent speed and hold a conversation, and also cute that she earnestly shared yet another piece of information Jane would have dumped right after the final exam that required it.

When they finished, Maura put the pot in the refrigerator and opened another bottle of wine while Jane carried dishes to the sink. They went back to the couch, Maura siting in the middle, Jane at the end nearest the door.

"Dinner was delicious. Thank you again."

"It's my pleasure," Maura purred.

Jane wondered whether Maura remembered how much that affected her. What she wanted to say, what she would have said before, she was afraid to voice.

Maura moved down the couch to sit beside her and put her hand on Jane's thigh.

She wanted this. They both wanted it. Jane saw the room they were in wrecked by her hands. It was why Maura had it redone. She liked the change. The reason for it was still between them. Maura used words, and Jane hit and threw things rather than Maura. She still had trouble believing that Maura could make her so angry, and at the same time knew that no one else ever would be the object of her passions. When Maura said her name, Jane turned.

Maura kissed her, holding Jane's head in strong hands. Desire and habit had Jane returning it before she could think of any of the reasons it was a bad idea. Kissing Maura was like nothing else. All the kisses of her past were pale imitations of this. Jane thought for a second about what it could lead to, and made herself stop.

"I miss you so much. Will you stay with me tonight?" Maura's voice was low, nearly inaudible.

"No," was the safe answer, the one that was acceptable until they aired their issues before a stranger, but what Jane said was, "Yes."

Her answer calmed Maura, who knew better than anyone Jane's propensity to leave when uncertain. Maura pulled Jane's head to her shoulder and put her arms around her while kissing her crown. Maura wanted to listen to her libido's urging, but was fairly certain Jane would bolt. Stepping back was the right thing, and Jane's arms going around her was the proof.

It felt good. It always felt good, and that was part of the problem, that they were distracted from the task at hand by the incredible chemistry between them. Maura remembered the first time Jane breached her personal space to touch her affectionately. She was so shocked, literally and figuratively, by the charge that ran through her from Jane's fingers that she immediately unleashed a Google-Wikipedia-Wolfram Alpha torrent that lasted until Jane closed her eyes and covered her ears.

Maura kissed Jane's head again and looked around the room. For a moment, she saw the ghost of another night, and blinked it away. Jane had yet to comment on the room, although Maura, angry as she was at the time, kept Jane in mind when she had it redone. She was almost certain that she reached an acceptable balance in their tastes. "Do you like the room?"

Jane tore away and sat up stiffly. She looked at Maura, gauging the intent behind the question. "It's nice."

"Do you like it?"

The repetition made Jane extremely nervous. She looked around the room, trying to see past her memories and emotions. "I don't know what I'm supposed to say," she finally answered.

Maura looked at her for a few seconds while she tried to work out the meaning of Jane's reply. "I just want your opinion," Maura said.

Jane looked around the room again, and for a moment saw books splayed everywhere and overturned furniture. In the next, she saw the room clearly, every concession Maura made to her tastes spotlighted. "I like it."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"I'm glad."

Jane nodded and got up from the couch. There had been too much touching in the past minutes, and she needed a moment to nail her libido back into a box.

"I'm thinking about redoing the rest of the house."

Jane, carefully not looking at all the new things in the room as she moved, knew she should say something, and finally forced out, "Yeah?"

"Perhaps we can discuss it?"

"Uh, sure. Just, you know, later."

"Certainly."

That silence fell between them again, so unlike the quiet they used to share. Maura watched Jane move slowly through the room, hands in her pockets, shoulders hunched, head down. It was obvious Jane was no longer interested in being there, but Maura wasn't going to let her leave, not after she promised to stay. Being apart was not going to do anything to repair the rift between them, even if it was the easier thing to do.

Maura got up and went to Jane. She put her arm through Jane's. "Let's just go to bed."

Jane nodded and looked around again, then at Maura. "I'm so sorry."

"I am, too, but." Maura stopped, repeated, "let's just go to bed." She was tired from running, and more tired from hours on the emotional rollercoaster, and if they started again tonight, what was left could well go up in flames. She tugged Jane's arm lightly, just enough to get her moving toward the bedroom.


	6. Chapter 6

Jane woke early. It was still dark outside, but not for long. She looked at Maura, asleep on her back. Maura was confusing, frustrating, and the best thing in her life, and Jane was still frightened by the anger between them. She understood why Maura was mad, but there was no use crying over spilled milk. She didn't understand why Maura stayed mad, or how Maura made her angry enough for her control to slip. The last time that happened, Tommy wound up with 14 stitches, and Jane was grounded for the rest of the school year.

Jane didn't understand why Maura was willing to try fix things between them, especially after that night. As much as she disliked her regular visits with the department psychologist, when Maura suggested counseling, Jane immediately agreed. Had Maura suggested Jane drag her naked body across glowing coals and broken glass by her elbows, Jane would have immediately agreed.

Staying still was not anything Jane tolerated by nature or habit, even where Maura was concerned. Jane heard the paper land on the sidewalk, and slid out of bed. She was, unfortunately, up for the duration. She quietly gathered her things, picked up her boots, and left the bedroom. In the hall, Jane paused to look once more at Maura, who looked as perfectly put together asleep as awake.

Jane kept an eye peeled for Bass, and found him snoozing behind the couch. She put down her things and began to dress from the pile. Her boots were last, and she leaned against the couch while pulling them on. Jane turned off the alarm and retrieved the paper. In the kitchen, she put the paper on the counter and started coffee. She pulled a blank page from Maura's shopping list and scrawled a quick message. _Game at 1. Pick you up at noon unless you call._

On the way out of the house, Jane reset the alarm, then headed for the nearest diner. The sky was beautifully colored for sunrise, and as she parked, Jane made a note to scout out a spot to watch the sunrise with Maura some morning that they were both awake and speaking civilly to each other.

She ordered a big, greasy breakfast, and took her time eating it. When she finished, it was still too early for anything other than early Mass, and she decided against that in favor of going home to shower. She put on her newest jeans, a red t-shirt, and sneakers, noting that it was time to get another pair.

It was still early, but she hoped Maura wouldn't mind. Jane grabbed a jacket and headed out again. She found Maura on the couch with a nearly empty coffee cup and the paper.

She took Maura's cup to the kitchen and refilled it. She got a cup for herself and went to the opposite end of the couch from Maura. Jane traded Maura's coffee for the sports section and got comfortable.

Once Jane was finished, she put the paper on the coffee table, got her drink, and put her free hand on Maura's ankle.

"I'm finished with the news and opinion sections, if you'd like them. Or the comics." Maura smiled and pulled them out.

"Thanks." Jane took them, and spent the next few minutes going through the six pages.

Maura watched her, and when Jane finished, she carefully put the pages neatly into order and returned them to her. Maura set them aside. "I never saw the point, although I understand that some contain cogent social commentary."

"I usually skip those." Jane pulled Maura's foot onto her lap.

'I'm not surprised,' Maura thought, but kept it to herself. "I have your Red Sox shirt if you want it."

"It looks fine on you." Jane began massaging Maura's foot.

"Thank you."

"I'd still like it back sometime."

"I understand." If they could work through this, Maura knew exactly how she would return Jane's shirt. "Are we supposed to bring anything?"

"Not this time, unless Ma calls."

"I should probably take some wine, since I'm the only one who drinks it."

"I dunno. I think the last four bottles you took them are there."

"Those were gifts."

"Ok, then you should take what you want." Jane switched feet.

"Mmmm, you are so good at that."

"Thank my physical therapist."

"Which one?" slipped out before Maura realized it.

"Regina," Jane answered without stopping or indicating that Maura was treading toward dangerous ground.

"She did a wonderful job."

"Uh huh."

Maura sighed and leaned back, enjoying the attention and relieved that they avoided a fight. She wasn't used to censoring herself with Jane, and hoped she wouldn't have to for much longer.

Jane finished and ran her finger lightly the length of Maura's sole.

"Meanie," Maura giggled and pulled her foot back.

"You need to get in the shower."

Maura glanced at the clock. "I didn't realize it was that late." She put the paper aside and got up.

They were barely on time, and Maura stayed in the kitchen with Angela during the first part of the game, learning her meatball recipe, while Jane stayed on the couch between her father and Frankie.

She got up to get another round at the bottom of the third inning. The picture in the kitchen was lovely and nerve-wracking at the same time. Maura, wearing her Red Sox jersey, was forming meatballs while Angela watched. What made Jane nervous was that she knew if her mother asked a question, Maura would feel compelled to answer honestly.

Jane ended her personal DADT after their first kiss, which meant only that her mother would ask even more inappropriately personal questions that Maura would answer without blushing.

She put her empty bottle in the case and got three new from the refrigerator's bottom shelf. Jane opened them, deliberately keeping her back to Maura while she did it, discarded the caps, and returned to the living room.

It was the first time Angela could remember that Jane entered a room where Maura was without acknowledging her somehow. "Still fighting?"

"Yes." Maura put a completed meatball on the tray and began making another, shaping the meat mixture around a bit of cheese.

"Sometimes you need to give in to keep the peace."

"I don't agree, although I understand the temptation."

"She's stubborn."

"I know." Maura paused before beginning another meatball to smile at Angela. "So am I."

"Good," Angela smiled back. She met Maura half a dozen times before Jane announced at family dinner that they were dating and she intended to bring Maura next time. She immediately liked Maura. Angela watched them closely the first few times Jane and Maura came to the house, and came to the conclusion that although the M.E. was quirky, she was perfect for Jane. There was no mistaking the adoration on both sides in the looks they shared.

Things were never easy with her daughter. From the beginning, Jane was determined to do things her way, in her own time, and god help anyone who got in the way. As a result, she picked up broken bones, black eyes, and more cuts, scrapes, bruises, and sprains than any of them could remember. She was always fearless, always proving herself better than her "stupid brother" or "stupid boys" in general. As far as Angela knew at the time, the only thing that didn't get broken was her daughter's heart. It remained closely guarded. She always had a date, but rarely a second one, and the only girls she socialized with were her teammates. In retrospect, Angela wondered what went on under the pink canopy her daughter hated so much during giggly "study sessions."

When they finished in the kitchen, Maura got a glass of water and went to the couch. She squeezed in between Jane and Frankie, and Jane put her arm around Maura to make a little more space.

Minutes later, all four Rizzolis erupted at a bad call. Maura's water went all over her clothes. Jane realized it moments after it happened, took the glass, and pulled Maura up. "Bathroom."

Maura followed, not that she really had a choice. Jane put the glass on the bathroom counter and opened the towel closet. She pulled out the first bath towel she could find, unfurled it from a corner, and began blotting water from Maura's shirt. Her shirt. Maura's thighs. "Stop," Maura finally got out.

Jane froze, bent over, her face at Maura's stomach.

"I mean, it's all right. There's no damage," she said in a gentler tone.

Jane stood up. She was a little embarrassed, and wouldn't look at Maura.

Maura pushed the door closed. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Jane answered automatically, defensively.

"You ignored me in the kitchen, and you won't look at me now. Either you feel guilty about something, or you have a problem with me. Which is it?"

"Everything's not about you, Maura." Jane turned her back so she could put the towel over the shower rod.

"This is."

Jane sighed, and when she turned around, her left hand was rubbing the scars on her right. "It's not. When I went into the kitchen, you and Ma stopped talking. I know how she is, and I know how you are, and now she knows I'm an asshole."

"Language."

"And she's on your side."

"There are no sides, Jane."

"Ok, fine, there aren't any sides. I'm still an asshole."

"Language," Maura reproved more sternly.

She didn't, Jane noticed, disagree. "Go sit down and I'll get you a glass of wine."

"Thank you," Maura smiled. "It's white, so in the unlikely event I spill any, it won't stain."

"You didn't think you were gonna wear your water." Jane reached past her and opened the door.

"The baseball commissioner should consider instituting instant replay."

"Don't say that in front of Pop. He thinks it turned football into a crybaby game."

"But it isn't fair for one team to be penalized by an official's error."

"A lotta things aren't fair."

There it was again. Maura couldn't hide what she thought, although she didn't say it. At the entrance to the living room, she made a conscious decision to live up to the truce she instigated, and followed Jane to the kitchen.

"I thought you were gonna sit down."

"I will." Maura watched Jane get a wine glass from the cabinet.

The wine was open on the counter, and Jane filled the glass halfway.

"Sit in the chair with me."

She put the bottle down and looked at Maura. "Ok," she agreed.

Maura turned for the living room and Jane followed. Maura got Jane's beer from the coffee table. It was a good thing they decided to sit together, since Angela relocated to the couch, leaving them no other option.

Like they did any other Sunday afternoon they watched the game, Maura sat in Jane's lap. "I like your couch better," Maura said softly.

Jane let that reference to happier days pass without comment as Maura relaxed against her. The longer they sat there, watching television, the more comfortable Jane became. Frankie brought the next round of beers in from the kitchen, and within the hour, Maura took it from Jane's sleeping hand before it was dropped or spilled. Her attention left the game and returned completely to Jane.

In her sleep, Jane tightened the arm that slipped around Maura's waist and her newly freed one slid up Maura's thigh. She nuzzled into Maura's shoulder, showing the affection she couldn't when she was awake. That was something else Maura wanted to return. Until Jane, Maura wasn't haptic, and she missed the casual ease of their public physical interactions. She put her hand on Jane's to stop its creep up her thigh. No one needed to see Jane grope her, especially her mother, who was looking at them with a slight smile.

Maura smiled back and looked at the television. She wasn't interested in the Red Sox beyond Jane's obsession. Maura was happy to watch Jane enjoy the game, and when they started watching the game as part of the Sunday dinner ritual, enjoyed it even more. She missed these afternoons on Jane's lap, the brunette's agile fingers sliding beneath clothing to stroke whatever skin she could reach, her husky voice patiently explaining the nuances of the game.

Although Maura's eyes were on the set, she wasn't paying attention to it. She thought about the first time they did this, the determinedly neutral expression on Jane's face, the blush on her own, how quickly her self-consciousness faded. She recalled each Sunday after that, and how soon she felt a part of this family, so different than her own.

"What'd I miss?" Jane asked sleepily.

"Nothing," Maura answered, picked up Jane's beer and handed it to her.

"Thanks." Jane pulled her hand from under Maura's, but left the other where it was.

"You're welcome."

Jane drank, and thought about how normal this seemed, and how much she wanted it to be that way. Everything was good now, but when they were alone, something would come up and stay between them.

Like Maura, Jane looked at the set, but was paying it little mind. This was the closest she and Maura were in weeks, and Jane's body ached for more. Maura seemed to read her mind, turning her head to look at Jane. Jane's eyes went immediately to Maura's full lips, then to her eyes. "Please," Jane whispered, voice barely audible to herself.

Maura understood, and held her gaze until they were too close. She brushed her lips against Jane's.

Magnificent, and never enough. Every time they kissed, Maura knew she waited her entire life for just that, and that there would never be enough time or enough kisses to satisfy her. She wanted a long time to test that theory, and Jane's recklessness cut into that time. The last incident came close to ending everything before they truly started. Maura had been looking at rings in her spare time, picturing different designs on Jane's elegant hand. And then.

The waking nightmare of the last months raised itself to the forefront.

Somehow, Jane knew. "It's all right, I'm here," she soothed so quietly that Maura felt her voice as much as heard it while her fingers stroked Maura's ribs. It felt right, the best Jane felt in more than a month, and she hoped Maura felt the same. This was what they needed, to ignore all the stupidity that could come from her tired brain and let their bodies take over.

"Get a room," Frankie said, and Jane slid her beer between Maura's thighs long enough to flip him the bird. She left her drink where it was and put her palm on Maura's cheek. She wanted to put everything aside, pick Maura up and hold her, keeping the heat that Jane ardently desired close to her body, and carry her somewhere that she could pin Maura to the wall with her body, except that it was never necessary. Maura always held onto her. Would she today? Could they forget, just for a few hours, that something stood between them?

It was easier for Jane. Too many close calls in her life made her try to live so she wouldn't be sorry. It was why she kissed Maura to begin their relationship. "I'm here," Jane repeated.

"Home," Maura husked. Tears were far too close to the surface. This should stay between them.

"All right," Jane acquiesced immediately. She put her bottle on the floor and stood up, making certain Maura had her feet under her. "We have to go."

"I didn't hear your phone."

"I set it to vibrate.

"All right," Angela answered dubiously. "Be careful. Come back if it doesn't take too long."

"Sure, Ma." Jane opened the front door.

Maura waved. "Good night," and let Jane usher her through the door.

Jane barely started their journey when Maura said, "We shouldn't."

"I know," Jane answered.

"Sex changes nothing."

"Sex changes everything." Jane flipped on her blinker before coming to a stop. "It's ok."

"No, it isn't." Maura's tone was more intense than she intended. "I want it to be ok, but it isn't."

"Maur, just. I'm drivin'." Jane forced herself to relax her grip on the wheel. "I'm drivin' you home, and then I'm goin' home."

"I," Maura began, and faltered.

Jane paid extra attention to the nonexistent traffic. She pulled into Maura's garage, and handed Maura the keys before getting out of the car. Maura was still in the Lexus' passenger seat when Jane got into the driver's seat of her car.

The passenger glass lowered, and Jane lowered her window.

"Please don't go," Maura said.

Jane closed her eyes and exhaled. She long ago made it her practice to say yes to any reasonable request Maura made. Maura was getting better at explaining what she needed, but their recent rift made clear improvement was needed on both sides.

"Ok," Jane agreed, and hoped she wouldn't regret the decision later. She got out of her car and opened Maura's door.

"Do you want to watch the rest of the game?" Maura offered as they walked through the kitchen.

"If you do," Jane answered.

Maura stopped, and Jane almost ran into her. "Don't do that."

"Huh?"

"I asked what you want."

What Jane wanted most was standing in front of her, and she took half a step and wrapped her arms around Maura.

Maura started to say something, then realized that Jane's action was an answer. She slipped her arms around Jane and put her face in Jane's neck. The scar from Hoyt's scalpel was in her sight, and she kissed it lightly. For all of Hoyt's protestations of love for Jane, Maura knew he could not love. The marks he left on Jane, visible and not, proved that.

As much as she wanted Jane, Maura made certain to not encourage anything more. She couldn't bear even the idea of pushing Jane's shirt aside and seeing the scar tissue, still bright red and tender. The last time Maura saw it was the final straw that brought them here.


	7. Chapter 7

_**~ ~ ~ flashback ~ ~ ~**_

They were drinking at the Dirty Robber with their friends for the first time since Jane was released from the hospital. It was still new, but Jane preferred beer to Percocet and Maura allowed her that substitution as Jane took fewer tablets each day. They started casually, and two drinks after happy laughing, went back to Maura's and drank some more. That was the crucial error, the loosening of inhibitions. They were getting hot and heavy on the couch and Maura pushed up Jane's shirt. When she touched the newest scar, Maura's mood changed. She asked, voice quavering, "Why?"

Jane said her name and tried to kiss her, but Maura wouldn't permit it.

"You did this completely insane thing and you never said a word about it. You almost died, Jane." Maura knew the exact injuries, could visualize them after autopsying so many gunshot victims.

"I'm ok."

Maura poked beside the scar gently, and Jane hissed as Maura withdrew her hand. "You are NOT ok. You are still many months from such a casual answer."

Jane pulled down her shirt. "While I appreciate your professional opinion, DOCTOR Isles, I have a doctor."

"Don't pull that to me," Maura answered hotly.

"First, it's don't pull that ON me, and second, you started it."

"I asked you a question," Maura replied angrily.

"What does it matter, Maura? It's over. Nothing's going to change what happened."

"What does it matter?" Maura repeated incredulously. "Do you believe your life doesn't matter?"

"No."

"That's how you acted, like your life was worth less than Frankie's or even Marino's."

"Definitely worth less than yours," Jane snarked, hoping to divert Maura.

"You made him take you." Maura ignored the bait.

Jane tried again. "Yeah, Maura, because he woulda shot you just to shut you up."

Again, Maura ignored her attitude. "Did you even think about what would happen?"

"Do you think I'm a fucking idiot?" Jane got up and began pacing restlessly. "Of course I thought about it. I thought Frankie might die no matter what you did because he needed a hospital. I thought maybe another of *his* cronies was still around. I thought you'd have enough fucking sense to stay in the basement, but you took off outta there as soon as you updated the EMTs to run through a building fulla dead bodies, a building that wasn't cleared."

"Do not swear at me."

"That's all you have to say?" Jane stopped and stared at Maura. "You have enough degrees to paper a wall, and all you can do is complain about my language?"

"No, that is not all I have to say."

"Big surprise." Jane resume pacing.

"You don't think before you act. You're rude, moody, obstinate, and unforgiving."

"Like you're such a prize."

"I believe that was sarcasm."

"You believe correctly. Do you really wanna do this, Maura?"

"I want to understand why you gave yourself as the sacrificial lamb, as it were."

"You act like I had a choice or somethin'."

"You CHOSE to shoot yourself," Maura yelled, her composure long gone.

"I was shooting Marino, goddamnit," Jane spat back. "I was not trying to commit suicide or be a fucking hero. I didn't want to stay there like that for hours while the goddamn hostage negotiator played that stupid game when everybody knows SWAT's just waiting for a clean shot. There wasn't gonna be a clean shot. There wasn't gonna be anything except at least one more dead cop, and I made sure it wasn't gonna be me."

"No, you didn't." Maura got up and intercepted Jane. She didn't touch her, but kept her finger hovering just above the location of the scar on Jane's torso. She was surprised it didn't shake. "The projectile left the barrel at a speed in excess of 350 meters per second. The fabric of your shirt was blown apart, and there was gunpowder on and in the skin around the point of entry. The projectile burnt through the dermis and muscle, but impact with your rib slowed it considerably and altered its path enough that you were not fatally wounded."

"Stop." Jane tried to move away, and Maura shadowed her. Jane deliberately avoided all discussion of what happened that was more complicated than debating whether she was a hero or merely insane, both options she rejected but the only ones anyone gave. Hearing Maura recite, as if she were on the witness stand, what happened, was nearly as horrifying as the act.

"It also brought bone fragments and other contaminants into your lung when it entered. The size of the projectile caused massive injury to the chest wall and destroyed parts of your lung, and is also the reason that ribs were broken as it exited your back. It still had more than enough speed to smash through Marino's sternum and heart, and exit his back."

"Stop," Jane repeated, in a lower tone, putting as much authority behind it as she could. She felt her temper rising with each second, in fluctuating parts defensive gut reaction to the threat Maura felt like at the moment, horror at the pain she caused Maura, and renewed anger at Marino and his cronies.

"You received transfusions equal to two and half times your body's blood volume. I estimate that more than a pint soaked into my clothing while I put pressure on your wounds. On my hands, it felt like a gallon."

"Stop it!" Jane yelled, but Maura continued in the same clinical voice she used to deliver autopsy findings. It kept getting worse, and Maura's even tone tore at her skin like the bullet or a scalpel. She hated remembering those things, because she involuntarily surrendered her autonomy to them. Even in memory, those moments - her loss of control, the panic, the burning pain that was worse by the second - infuriated her. Having her nose rubbed in them by Maura propelled Jane to the bounds of her control.

"For seven and a half hours, all I could do was hope that your surgeon was highly skilled and that you were strong enough to survive both the initial injury and the subsequent surgery. I sat alone in the waiting room for the last three because your parents were with your brother and everyone else was busy with the investigation and the media."

"Stop it!" Jane yelled again, and swept her arm along a bookshelf, throwing its contents to the floor. It was close to what was going on inside, Maura's words bursting through her barriers and leaving in their wake a jumble of the things Jane fought every moment, most successfully, to suppress.

"You were in a coma for three days, not because it was medically necessary, but because your body shut down in response to overwhelming trauma. During that time, I gave a formal statement. Sitting in a chair beside your hospital bed holding your hand so you knew you weren't alone, I described everything that happened to a stranger. Your parents came in and out, but no one else was allowed into ICU except the investigators."

Jane cleared another shelf, then two more. Maura fell silent, but it was too late. A small, rational bit of Jane's mind pointed out from its corner that she would regret her actions later, but it was too late for that, too. "It wasn't my fucking fault!" Jane screamed, and kicked a small table. The things on it went flying, and breaking glass sounded *right*, even better than the solid thump of wood landing on wood.

By the time Jane's tantrum was over, Maura was nowhere in sight. When Jane saw what she'd done, she began to shake again. She couldn't even begin to fix this, and ran from Maura's house, leaving on the door a bloody smear from a torn fingernail.

Maura waited several minutes after she heard Jane's car leave to unlock her bedroom door and venture into the house. The living room was destroyed. Furniture was overturned and out of place. Broken glass, ceramic, and plastic were under and on top of the books near the bookcases. Other books were everywhere, in the awkward positions they landed, open, spines threatened. At the moment, Maura felt as fragile as her broken belongings.

Maura wanted to stop talking at Jane, but couldn't. It had been eating at her for months, and the person she would discuss things with was the cause. Jane's reaction was out of control, but Maura wasn't frightened of her. For her, perhaps, given the complete silence when Jane stopped. Maura thought about going back out to her then, and didn't because she knew she couldn't control her need to scold and that would only refuel Jane. Maura's thoughts stopped again. What were they now? Until Jane apologized, Maura wasn't talking to her although Jane had done nothing overtly aggressive except raise her voice. She didn't threaten Maura verbally or physically, and none of the things that went airborne were sent in Maura's direction. She sent the next hours picking up and setting right what she could, saving what could be saved, and threw the rest away. She replayed it in her head repeatedly before realizing that today marked six months since...and again, she couldn't even think the words without inducing a panic attack.

Perhaps it wasn't the right time or the right way to bring up the topic, but they hadn't discussed it at all, not even in passing. No one wanted to think too much about that day, one of the bloodiest in Boston police history. There would be no trial, since there was no one alive to prosecute. Maura didn't know when Jane gave her statement. It had to be during one of the afternoons that Jane insisted she spend time outside the hospital. "You're lookin' pale, even by nerd standards," was the standard affectionate teasing Jane used to urge her away for a while.

In the hospital, they didn't talk at all about why they were there. Once Jane was certain her brother was fine, she seemed to Maura to be mostly annoyed by the whole thing, and resigned that anything she wanted would be overruled by the hospital staff, Maura, or her mother. When Frankie brought in a ceremonial beer to share with her while they watched the game, Maura smelled it on her breath when she returned. Jane's only consolation was that Frankie caught hell from Maura, too. That was the closest they came to talking about it, Maura scolding her for drinking that small amount of alcohol while taking potent pain medication.

It wasn't as if that shooting was the only touchy topic they avoided. There were a whole slew of them, referred to only when absolutely necessary, and sometimes in shorthand that designated each particular horrible situation. There were things from their individual pasts, as well, that rippled into their adult lives.

Jane drove away without thinking about where she was going. Home made the most sense, but she didn't think her apartment was the best idea. It had ghosts, too, and she really didn't want to deal with them. She turned on the radio, unwilling to accept silence that would make her think. She kept driving south, until she was too tired to continue, and turned into the lot of the first motel with a vacancy sign.

She got a room and called for pizza. Not long after she finished eating, she was asleep.

Her phone woke her. Frost's ringtone repeated. "Rizzoli."

"We got a case."

"No can do. Call somebody else."

"You're on call."

"I'm sick," she lied.

"Bullshit."

"I'm not comin', Frost," she answered, and hung up. She stared at the ceiling for a long time, feeling as bad as she had during the worst hangover. The alcohol burned out of her system before she left Maura's, but her body protested its violent use. She was emotionally exhausted, too, her guilt compounded by running out on the mess she made. She should have been able to keep her temper, to not let Maura goad her into that display. If Maura never spoke to her again, Jane felt she deserved it. She was equally sure that Maura wouldn't be able to hold her tongue now that it was loose. Maura's recitation shook her. Jane hadn't felt so broken down since waking up in the hospital after surgery on her hands, her first recollection *him* because she was restrained to prevent any additional damage. She woke alone that time, sweating, panicking, screaming. That was the first time, and Jane doubted that those dreams would ever end. They were less frequent when she and Maura shared a bed. Oh shit, Maura. "Fuck, shit, piss, and corruption," she swore softly.

The thought that she excluded Maura from the majority of her life made Jane want to withdraw completely from the world again as she had for months after Hoyt. Maura was the one who drew her back into the world, and Jane didn't want to face it without Maura. This hurt more than anything ever. She didn't know if it could be fixed, but if anything of their relationship could be salvaged, Jane determined to do whatever was necessary. She got out of bed, and after some morning prep time, went back to her car and drove back to Boston.

Jane stayed busy over the weekend. By the time she was ready to head to her parents' for dinner, alone although she called Maura and left a voice mail to remind her, Jane's apartment was immaculate, all of her laundry washed, folded, and properly put away. Her cabinets and refrigerator were stocked.

Maura didn't come for dinner, nor did she call to excuse her absence. On Monday, she arrived late and acknowledged neither the coffee Jane brought her or the note with it. On Tuesday, at a crime scene, Jane and the rest of the crime scene crew realized exactly how bad things were.

When Jane approached the body, where Maura crouched waiting for the liver temperature, Maura said without looking, "I'll notify you if there's anything of interest, Detective Rizzoli."

"Thanks," Jane answered, and went off to examine some other part of the scene. She deserved that and far worse.

Out of Maura's sight, Frost hurried to catch up to his partner. "Rizzoli, what's goin' on?"

"Nothing that concerns you. Who's our vic?"

* * *

By the end of the week, that case and another were solved. The traditional celebration loomed, stressing both Jane and Maura, and spreading to those around them. In the middle of Friday afternoon, Jane gathered her courage and walked down the stairs to the morgue.

Maura was alone in her office, and Jane knew Maura saw her come in. Still, she politely rapped on Maura's open door.

"Yes, Detective?"

"I'd really like for you to come to the bar with us tonight, Maura, but if you're not going because I am, then I won't. "

Maura took several nerve-wracking seconds to consider an answer. "I'll go because I'm part of the team, but I won't stay."

Jane nodded. After a few seconds she said, "I'm really sorry, Maura."

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Maura," Jane pleaded.

"We're through here, Detective." Maura stressed the last word and looked at the paperwork on her desk.

Jane couldn't remember ever hearing that tone from Maura before. 'What a fucking mess,' she thought as she turned to go, head hung.

When Jane was out of sight, Maura slumped into her chair, head back, eyes closed as she willed away tears.

At the bar, Jane bought the first round. She finished her drink and slipped away, her absence unnoted by all but one of the celebrants.

Maura watched her leave, knowing Jane did it so Maura could continue to bond with her colleagues. Half an hour later, Frost asked, "Where's Rizzoli?"

"She left," Maura answered.

"Why?"

"So I wouldn't." Maura was as far into her training on how to lie successfully as Frost was on his to not puke at crime scenes.

"Did you have a fight?" Korsak asked with concern.

"Yes. I'm still quite angry and uninterested in overtures of apology."

"Should we ask what it was about?" he continued.

"No," Maura answered decisively. This was between them, and would stay that way.

* * *

Jane's next missive to Maura was considerably shorter, and accompanied by flowers. Not roses, which Maura didn't particularly like, but the bright tropical flowers she did. Jane didn't dare go to the basement, but was pleased when Frost returned and reported that Maura had flowers in her office.

She waited a few nights before going downstairs at quitting time. The flowers were still in Maura's office, but that made Jane no less wary. "Hi."

"Do you need something?"

"Can we talk?"

"Not yet."

"Not yet or not ever?"

"Not yet," Maura repeated, and took a glance at Jane. If you didn't know her, she looked fine. To Maura, Jane looked sleep deprived, vitamin deficient, and anxious. "Please don't stop asking," she added.

Jane nodded. "Good night, Maura," she said before leaving. 'Patience,' she counseled herself as she climbed the steps. Maura knew how little she possessed. Jane would find it somewhere, and her left hand rubbed the scars on her right comfortingly.

* * *

On the second Sunday that Maura didn't come for dinner, Jane's mother cornered her in the kitchen. "Where's Maura?"

"I don't know. Home, I guess."

"Let me rephrase the question. Why isn't Maura here?"

"We had a fight," Jane sighed.

"Have you apologized to her?"

"Yes. Why does everybody always assume I'm the one who's wrong?"

"Because you're such a hothead. You always run your mouth before thinking."

"Maura's not perfect, you know," Jane answered irritably.

Angela laughed. "I didn't think she was. But you should fix things with her."

"I'm tryin', Ma." To her skeptical look, Jane added, "She's still coolin' off. She asked me to give her some time."

Angela thought about Maura, and about her bull in a china shop daughter. They were a perfect match, but they had the same blind spots, the same guarded hearts, and the same fear of losing what they had even if what they got was better. In the kitchen with Maura, when Jane was on the couch or in the yard with her father and her brother and whoever stopped by, Maura confessed tidbits of her childhood but never spoke about Jane. At the sink, when Jane played baseball or football in the back yard, Maura's hands worked automatically while her eyes followed Jane's every move. The first time she cringed, Angela put her hand on Maura's shoulder. Maura didn't look at her until Jane let Frankie pull her up and Jane flipped him off. "You have to let her do it," Angela counseled, "and be there to fix her up when she comes home. She'll always come home. Janey's like that." They looked out the window to see Jane throw a vicious chop block on Frankie. "You might keep some extra supplies for her friends," Angela added.

* * *

Jane couldn't believe a month passed. She was becoming resigned to sleeping alone, and it was no easier than it had ever been. Many nights, she lay awake debating moving to a different apartment. The ghosts in this one threatened her on more than one occasion, and her brother understandably avoided coming over. No one came over any more.

She missed Maura during those early mornings. Her presence was almost always enough to keep Jane's nightmares at bay. It was so hard to not pick up the phone just to hear her voice flow through Jane's conscious like a security blanket. Instead, she tried to keep it to herself and did everything she could to wear herself into exhaustion.

Maura saw her at the gym one slow afternoon, and after a few seconds, returned to her office. She returned her bag to her locker, and sat at her desk. The decorator was scheduled to finish the living room this week. Maura redid it after realizing just how much damage Jane did. She'd been thinking about redoing it anyway, but their spat stepped up her plans. Anger was starting to leave. She left a huge amount in the gym after observing Jane on a stair stepper, thin shoulders heaving a slight wheeze with each breath.

Sadness replaced Maura's anger. She'd been to therapy before and was well aware of her social deficits. Somehow, she'd overcome them to find someone who loved her, and this was where they were, completely unable to speak to each other. Jane respected the boundaries Maura drew, and as a result, closed down as much as she had after her initial encounter with Hoyt. She went out after work, but left after one drink, and Maura felt guilty each time she watched her leave. She was surprised that Korsak and Frost kept their counsel, and relieved that they did. Maura felt bad enough without their disapproval, so like the sad look on Frankie's face just before he greeted her.

As the second month began, Jane made another overture to Maura. She had lunch delivered on a particularly unpleasant day, eliminating Maura's need to go out. Although she didn't send a message, she got a brief e-mail thanks from Maura, and returned a 'you're welcome.'

That was another particularly fruitful week for the homicide squad as they wrapped up one old and one new case. This time, Korsak and Frost separated Jane and Maura at the bar, and Korsak pressed beers on Jane. Maura, on the other hand, was better at sticking to her limits, but still allowed herself to be carried along with the group to another bar for karaoke.

_**~ ~ ~ end flashback ~ ~ ~**_


	8. Chapter 8

"Why don't we just watch the rest of the game?" Maura asked softly.

"Ok," Jane answered, but neither of them moved for several seconds.

It was Maura who pulled away and pushed Jane gently toward the living room. "I'll get our drinks."

Maura got two bottles of water from the refrigerator. Jane didn't drink nearly enough water, and Maura wanted them to remain sober. She expected to hear the television when she entered, and instead saw Jane crouched beside Bass at the patio door. They both looked out into the yard while Jane scratched his head. While Maura watched, Bass shifted so his foot touched Jane's and more of his shell was against her thigh. "I'm workin' on it, buddy," she said to him softly.

Maura walked silently behind them and bent to kiss Jane's head. "We are," she amended, and shifted the bottles so she had a hand free for Jane's shoulder. "I have strawberries."

"We're ok," Jane answered, her eye shifting to their reflections in the glass. She chuckled at them, and scratched Bass' head one more time before rising.

"What's humorous?"

"Our little family portrait. You, me, and the turtle."

"Tortoise," Maura corrected automatically and wondered whether it was one of Jane's jokes. She liked the idea, and didn't ask.

"That's what I said." Jane slid the second water bottle from between Maura's arm and her body. "C'mon, the game's probably still on."

They spent the rest of the afternoon on the couch, Jane sprawled on her good side with Maura under her chin. When the game ended, Jane returned the remote to Maura, who turned off the TV set. Jane's arm was tight around her waist, and Maura had been fighting the temptation to push even harder against her. Instead, she rolled over and moved up a little.

Jane sucked in a surprised breath, bringing a slight smile to Maura's face. Another question answered. 'Slow,' she reminded herself.

"Maur?"

"Trust me?" Maura asked, inches from her lips.

"Always," Jane answered, moving incrementally closer. Her answer, immediate and true, pleased Maura immensely.

They kissed slowly, and whenever they broke apart, Jane's eyes blinked open and sought Maura's. She stopped wondering what Maura was doing after a while, and just soaked in everything that made Maura. She was warm, and smelled like that expensive perfume that Jane couldn't pronounce but whose name she kept in her wallet. She tasted a little of the wine she drank earlier. Jane's hands, spread across Maura's back, felt every muscle move. Maura's hair spilled forward, and Jane felt each of her breaths everywhere. This was peace, and Maura was the only person who ever gave her this gift. It was why Jane would never stop trying to keep Maura with her somehow.

Maura felt the change come over Jane, and took a moment to appreciate it. It was wonderful to see her without the creases of worry or sadness, and Maura kissed her again. She didn't understand Jane's reluctance to return to their sexual relationship. They agreed to work things out, but if Jane needed something more from her, Maura would wait until she learned what it was. She snuggled down on Jane's chest, content to listen to the regular rhythm of Jane's heart, strong in her ear, and the clear, deep breaths accompanying them.

Their phones woke them from the unexpected nap, ringing the tones that signaled work. "We didn't even get dinner," Jane said sorrowfully before answering.

* * *

Maura drove them to the first therapy session. Jane fidgeted in the car, and more in the office. While they waited, she squirmed in the chair despite Maura's consistent glare. The therapist called them into her office.

After introductions, Dr. Lisa Brown directed Jane and Maura to a comfortable sofa and sat in a nearby chair. "Your questionnaires indicate that you have some communication issues. Could you give me an example?"

Jane looked uneasily at Maura, but waited for her to begin. After an interminable wait of several seconds, Maura said, "Jane conceals her emotions and attempts to avoid discussion of unpleasant events."

"Jane?" the therapist prompted.

She felt trapped, and glanced at Maura again. The inches between them felt like the Grand Canyon. "It feels like I'm always sayin' the wrong thing," she admitted.

"How long has this been going on?"

"Since," Maura began, and faltered.

"Since something happened at work a while ago," Jane supplied.

"Could you be more specific?"

Jane stared at her for several seconds, then dropped her eyes to the floor. She felt Maura shift beside her.

"A number of our co-workers and several others were murdered," Maura stated.

"That must have been unsettling."

Jane snorted at the understatement. "What?" she replied to the looks from both other women.

"How would you describe it?"

"A clusterfuck of epic proportion."

"Language," Maura reproved.

"How so?" Lisa asked.

"Oh, let's see," Jane enumerated, raising a finger with each point. "We have a precinct house stormed and held. Good men dead, because of one bad man. A witness murdered in front of me after I promised to keep her safe. My brother almost died, and I had to stop the lying sack of shit who started it all."

"You are not responsible for any of that," Maura said softly.

"Then why are you makin' me feel guilty about it?" Jane demanded, and looked squarely at Maura for the first time that day.

"That's not my intent."

"What is your intent, Maura? Cause it feels like you're gonna keep punishing me for doing my job."

"I am not," Maura began, and stopped.

"You're not what?" Lisa prompted.

There were several seconds of silence while Maura reviewed the past months. "That was never my intent," she answered stiffly, without looking at either woman.

"What did you mean to say?" Lisa asked.

There was a long period of silence while Maura composed her thoughts. "I worry more than ever now," she said finally, and turned to Jane. "I worry that the next time you act rashly will be the last."

"I'm not goin' anywhere," Jane answered quietly.

"You don't know that. You can't know that."

"Whaddya want me to say, Maur?"

"I don't want you to _**say**_ anything. I want you to be more careful."

"I _**am**_ careful."

Maura shook her head slightly.

"Maura, what do you mean when you say Jane acts rashly?"

"She leads with her heart, not her head."

"Hey!" Jane protested.

"That's how Hoyt," Maura spat his name, "got to you every time. That's why you led Patrick Doyle to my brother's killer. That's why you made Marino take you."

"I did not call Doyle."

"A technicality." Maura waved Jane's assertion away.

"That is not a technicality. It's a statement of fact. You asked me not to call him, and I didn't."

The therapist observed their discussion, and stopped it before it escalated any further. "One issue at a time," she interrupted.

"Fine," Jane snapped. "Pick one."

"Hoyt."

"Off limits," Jane replied definitively.

"Why?"

"I agree with Jane that we do not wish to discuss him," Maura answered.

"Patrick Doyle," Lisa suggested.

"Oh, we're really not goin' there tonight."

"Why?" Maura and Lisa asked in chorus.

"Maura doesn't believe me, so why talk about it?"

"I never said that."

"You just did," Jane contradicted. "A technicality," she mimicked.

"You know who called him. You made all of us accessories."

"I don't know who called the sperm donor, and I wouldn't tell you if I did. I know everything's black and white in your lab, but it isn't in the real world. Would you rather spend the rest of your life looking over your shoulder, wondering if every stranger you see is the one who's going to kill you?"

"No," Maura said, "but it doesn't make what you did, what we did, right."

"I'll take wrong over dead every time."

"What, exactly, are we talking about?" Lisa asked.

"A while back, we had a John Doe," Jane explained. "He turned out to be Maura's brother."

"You didn't know you had a brother?"

"I was adopted, and the records are either lost or sealed, so I couldn't get any information about my birth parents."

"He was murdered to get to the sperm donor, and Maura was next," Jane added.

"What happened?"

"Doyle kidnapped Maura. Sent her back with a phone."

"He asked me to call when I knew who killed Colin."

"What happened to the phone?"

"I gave it to my partner for forensics."

"You gave it to Korsak."

"Maura, you were there. You saw me give it to Frost. You heard me tell him to book it into evidence."

"You were most unconvincing."

"Really? Then next time, I'll lie better."

"I don't want you to lie at all."

"What am I supposed to do? Let some mob enforcer take you out to settle an ancient score?" Jane's frustration was apparent in her tone. "That's never going to happen. I will _always_ do whatever it takes to keep you safe."

"I don't need you to protect me," Maura answered, equally frustrated. "If anything, I should be protecting you."

"You did. You do. You're the one who put Leahy down. You figured out that Emily was Lola. You saved Frankie."

"But you keep getting injured."

"It's my job, Maura."

"No, it's not. I am quite familiar with your job description, and nowhere does it say that."

"To serve and protect," Jane answered. "It's on the door of every cruiser. It's on the wall of every meeting room. It's on every uniform. I took an oath to do that."

"That doesn't obligate you to heedlessly throw yourself into every dangerous situation."

"I don't," Jane said, exasperated.

"You do," Maura insisted. "These," she said, brushing her fingers over the scar on the back of Jane's hand, "are because you didn't wait for backup. The one near your collarbone is because you allowed yourself to be distracted by concern for your neighbor. The new ones"

"Stop."

"are the result of"

"Stop," Jane demanded again.

This time, Maura did.

"Jane, why won't you let her finish?"

She closed her eyes for a few seconds, slowly inhaled and exhaled. 'How do you fucking do that, Maura?' Jane asked silently. "I know how I got my scars," she said.

"That's not an answer," Lisa said.

"These," Jane answered, flexing her hands, "remind me every day that I made a mistake. I don't need to be told _again,_" she stressed, glancing at Maura, "about it."

"What was the mistake?"

Jane's hands balled into fists. "I'm not talking about that any more."

Maura curled her hand around Jane's. After several seconds, she stretched her hand under Maura's, splaying her fingers slightly so Maura's slid between them while the therapist observed the interaction. Jane ignored her and squeezed Maura's fingers for a moment. "I'm done," she told Maura hoarsely.

"For tonight?" Maura asked.

Jane knew it wasn't a question, although it was phrased that way. "Yeah."

Maura took a moment to review what they said before agreeing.

"We have a few more minutes," Lisa protested.

Maura stood, and Jane reflexively followed. "Thank you. We'll see you next week."

Lisa stood, too, and watched them leave.

They didn't talk on the way out of the building, or in the car until Maura was parked at Jane's apartment building. "You want a drink?" Jane asked.

"Yes," Maura answered, and unbuckled her seatbelt.

Jane met her on the sidewalk, and they went inside and upstairs, where Joe Friday exuberantly greeted them. "I should take her out," Jane said.

On hearing her second favorite word, the dog began to spin in excited circles. Maura smiled at her, but her smile faded when she looked at Jane. "Go on," she said softly.

Jane quickly leashed the dog and they headed out. Maura went to the kitchen. She smiled again when she opened the refrigerator. Angela had obviously been there; Jane's beers were on the lower shelves; the uppers held the open bottle of wine Maura sought and storage containers full of food. Maura brought one out with the wine. It contained lasagna, and she put portions on plates and returned the remainder to the refrigerator. She washed the dog's food and water bowls, filled both, and returned them to their place.

While she waited for Jane, Maura again reviewed their session with the therapist. It went better than she thought it would. Maura expected Jane to balk much earlier than she did.

Jane's return after less then 10 minutes was another small surprise, and as the door closed, Maura slid one plate into the microwave. By the time Jane reached the kitchen, Maura had an open beer waiting for her.

"Thanks," Jane said, and took a swig before getting a treat for the dog. Joe Friday took it politely and carried it to the couch. She took her accustomed place there, on the end closest to the door. "I see Ma's been here."

"Apparently," Maura agreed. "Your takeout cartons have been replaced with pink storage containers."

Jane rolled her eyes. "Frankie's are blue."

Maura nodded. "Color coding is a simple way to keep track of items." She removed one plate from the microwave and put the other in. "Get my glass and the cutlery and I'll join you on the couch."

Jane nodded and did as asked. She put everything down on the coffee table and rubbed the dog's head while getting the remote. When Maura arrived, Jane had an episode of _Mythbusters_ ready to start. Maura liked to point out the fallacies in their arguments and experiments; Jane enjoyed the inevitable destructive finale. Joe Friday went to the kitchen when she realized that neither woman intended to share her meal.

When the episode finished, Maura turned off the television. Although it was early, they had to work the next day, and were on call tomorrow night, as well. She leaned forward to pick up their dishes.

"Don't." Jane said, and put her hand on Maura's shoulder.

"They will be more difficult to clean if they sit much longer, as well as colonizing a number of disturbingly difficult to eradicate pathogens."

"Remind me to have Pop turn up the temperature on the water heater," Jane deadpanned.

"That will not," Maura began, and stopped when she saw the beginning of a smirk. "You're teasing me."

"Yeah."

"You're not angry?"

"Why would I be angry?"

"You were earlier."

"I don't want to talk about it."

Maura nodded and picked up the plates again. "I should go home. Bass hasn't had his dinner."

Jane got Maura's empty wineglass and her bottle and followed Maura to the kitchen. "Just put them in the sink. I'll get them later."

Maura ignored her and rinsed everything before putting it in the dishwasher. When she finished, she kissed Jane's cheek. "See you in the morning."

"Are you mad?"

"No."

"What did I do that you're in such a rush to take off?"

"Bass needs to eat, too. You're welcome to join us."

"Really?"

"Yes, Jane, you're always welcome in my home."

"Give me a minute to get my stuff."

"Certainly."

Five minutes later, Jane joined Maura at the door. She opened it, called Joe Friday, and after locking it, followed Maura down to her car.


	9. Chapter 9

Maura slept deeply, and Jane was glad that she could. She was still pondering Maura's words, and her own reactions. Maura's ability to hone in on the things that upset her most was unsettling. More disturbing was how quickly Jane became angry. That, she knew, was all on her. This time, at least, Maura stopped when asked.

Jane turned her head to look at Maura, sleeping on her back with their clasped hands between them, and wondered again why Maura wanted to continue their relationship. She didn't have the nerve to ask that question aloud yet, and returned to watching the ceiling.

She tried to think about something else, but the things that came to mind wouldn't let her sleep, either. Jane deliberately redirected her train of thought to her open cases until she drifted to sleep. She wasn't out long before the nightmares she hoped to avoid began.

Jane's fitful movements disturbed Maura, who came fully awake when Jane sat up. She sat up, too, reaching across with her free hand to pull Jane into a hug. "Shhh, it's all right, you're safe," she said softly.

"I hate this," Jane said vehemently.

"I know," Maura soothed. She freed her hand to pull Jane closer.

Jane turned into her and returned the embrace, following when Maura lay down. She allowed Maura to calm her back to sleep. Maura stayed awake for a while, until she was sure that Jane was completely out.

Maura had her own questions and doubts, and the answers always came back to the woman in her arms, and the emotions that trumped logic. She understood the biochemistry that caused them, but they overwhelmed her nonetheless, and she missed the balance established early in their friendship, long before it began to change.

Her moment of realization occurred on a night much like this one, after dinner and a movie and a few drinks on the sofa. It was obvious that Jane was staying, since she brought a bag and Joe Friday, as well as takeout. Maura woke when Jane started to whimper, and held her hand while verbally comforting her. To Maura's surprise, Jane rolled toward her, and sprawled across her. After a few seconds, Maura heard and felt Jane sigh into her shoulder, and shivered.

While Jane's breaths ebbed and flowed across her skin, Maura recognized the growing feeling as arousal. She freed her hand from Jane's and slid it under her. Jane shifted, making it easier for Maura to ease her closer. While Jane slept, Maura replayed the past months, seeing clearly for the first time where their time together could be headed, and questions flooded her mind, and the answers made her nervous. It wasn't the idea of a lesbian relationship that made her uneasy, but the thought that Jane might back away.

"S'matter?" Jane asked sleepily.

"Nothing," Maura soothed. She rubbed Jane's back.

"Sure?"

"Yes. Sleep."

"K." Jane snuggled even closer, something Maura hadn't realized was possible.

Like she had that night, Maura cleared her mind and breathed in tandem with Jane until she was asleep.

It didn't last long. They were both restless, and the evening's poking and prodding at some of their most sensitive spots left them both uneasy, even in sleep. The second time Jane woke, Maura was in the midst of her own nightmares.

"S'all right," she soothed. "I gotcha."

"Jane?"

"Go back to sleep."

"I don't want to sleep."

"Me either. Coffee?" Jane suggested.

"I'd rather just stay like this."

"Ok."

"Ok," Maura echoed. Her thoughts bounced around but kept returning to a sunny afternoon.

"What are you thinking about?"

Maura hesitated.

"Well?"

"I want, I need to understand."

"Everything, I know," Jane said with a small chuckle, hoping to divert Maura's train of thought. "Remember when we met?"

"Of course I remember."

_**~ ~ ~ flashback ~ ~ ~ **_

Detective Barry Frost was visibly nervous. Jane Rizzoli was a legend in Boston PD, although whether the story was positive or negative depended on who was telling it. They'd hardly introduced themselves when they caught their first case.

She flashed her badge at the uniformed officer on guard and ducked under the yellow tape. She walked up to the body, rolling her eyes. A new partner AND a new M.E. in one day. What were the odds? 'Maybe I should play the lottery,' she mused, and asked, "What'cha got for me, Doc?"

"Get out of my homicide scene."

"_My_ homicide scene," Jane corrected her.

Maura Isles took in the woman in front of her as she rose. The gold shield confirmed she was a detective. The compression gloves and scar at her throat gave away the rest of her identity. "Detective Rizzoli, back away from the body. If you want to be here, you must at least put on shoe covers."

"Who the hell are you?" This woman couldn't possibly be the medical examiner. She was dressed in something obviously expensive and heels so high a hooker would think twice before wearing them.

"Maura Isles, Chief Medical Examiner. Please do as I ask. Walking in here like that, you further contaminated our crime scene." Maura did her best to enlist the detective's assistance instead of giving orders that she would, at the very least, argue.

Jane, uncertain how she'd been so easily outflanked, took half a dozen steps back before she turned around. Frost waited at the yellow tape with shoe covers for her. He had his on all ready, and waited to follow her back to the body.

"What'cha got for me, Doc?" Jane asked again while Frost stood and looked anywhere except at the body.

"Caucasian male, mid-twenties, killed somewhere else and brought here."

"Cause of death?"

"Unknown until the autopsy and labs are complete."

"Anything else you can tell me?"

"No." Maura stood again. "I do not speculate or conjecture. The facts will speak for themselves." She gestured for her staff to remove the body and carefully removed her gloves. "I will deliver my results as soon as I can, Detectives."

Maura was on the computer when Jane sauntered into her lab shortly after 11 a.m. the next day. "Can I help you, Detective Rizzoli?"

"I think we may have gotten off on the wrong foot, Dr. Isles."

"No, I don't believe we did. Although if you enter a crime scene without appropriate protection again, I will be cross."

"Do you have any idea how much crap I all ready have to carry around?"

"You sound as if you intend to enlighten me."

"You know what, screw this. We arrested the guy who did it last night. You need to be quicker if you want to be any help."

Maura stood up. "I wasn't trying to make you angry," she said with obvious confusion.

"And yet you did." Jane intended to leave, but something on Maura's face made her stay.

"It wasn't my intent. I apologize."

"I accept."

"As a gesture of goodwill, may I buy you lunch?"

"Is this a bribe?"

Maura hoped she was reading Jane correctly, and that her question wasn't serious. "More a, 'yay, you caught the bad guy,' thing," Maura assured her.

"I'll take that."

"Are you ready to go now?"

Jane shrugged. "Why not?"

"Excellent." Maura retrieved her purse from her desk and for the first time, Jane got a look at her outfit.

"Did you mug a model to get that?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Sorry, I didn't mean to say that out loud. Uh, you look very nice. I think I'd break my ankle in those heels, though."

"You'd be surprised." Maura gestured toward the door. "Shall we?"

Lunch lasted almost two hours. Maura was nervous and spouted facts about everything, which Jane surprisingly took in stride. Maura didn't seem to be showing off, so she was able to accept the behavior for a while. When she had enough, she held up her hand. "Stop, Maura. Just stop. I cannot absorb any more new information today."

"There is no limit to"

"There is, there really is, and I've exceeded it. I get it, you're brilliant, you know about everything. From now on, I'll just ask you instead of Google."

"I don't know everything. I'm sorry. I'm nervous. I want to impress you."

"You want to impress me." Jane repeated skeptically.

"You're famous. You have the highest clearance rate in the department. You are definitely the alpha, and it is in my interests to curry favor with you." Maura paused and frowned. "I don't mean that like it sounds. I want you to like me."

"I do." She did. It was a little confusing. They were unlike each other, and Maura was different than everyone she'd ever met. Strike that: It was a lot confusing. Maybe the M.E. just liked to slum it, although the way she dressed threw serious doubt on that theory.

"So we understand each other?" Maura asked hopefully.

"We understand each other," Jane repeated with a smile. "After work, we can toast our new found friendship properly. Right now, I have to go back and make sure Frost didn't screw up the paperwork."

"Your language is, um, salty."

"Yes, it is." Jane smirked at Maura.

"We're going to work on that," Maura said, and signed the receipt.

Drinks in no way mitigated Maura's continuing nervousness around Jane. She did try to control her need to interject random bits of extrapolation into conversation.

"Are you always like this with people?"

"Yes."

"You need to relax."

"Live people are complicated."

"No, we're really not. We all spend our lives scrambling around to get what we need and maybe some of what we want. None of it's any of our business unless somebody takes a shortcut."

"You don't believe in shortcuts?"

"Only during high-speed pursuit. Anyway, we all need the same things. Food. Water. Shelter. Companionship."

"I have Bass."

"Who is Bass?"

"My African tortoise. I've had him since he was the size of a silver dollar."

"How big is he now?"

"Quite large, but not full grown."

"I'm not sure a turtle counts as a companion. I meant a dog or a lover."

"Bass is a tortoise. There are distinct differences." Maura made herself stop. "You like dogs?"

"I like my dog. Wait. How did we get here?"

"We drove. If you mean conversationally," Maura shrugged, "it was all quite organic. A new experience for me."

"Didn't you have any friends?"

"A few."

"Jeez." Jane counted herself lucky. She was still friends with all the guys from her neighborhood. Several of them were cops. Except for one who went to college, and one who went to prison, the rest had blue-collar jobs and most of them still lived nearby. She ran into them in the park during her summer off, meeting their families, who looked at her with pride and a bit of awe. She should be doing that, trying to keep track of children in the park. Her mother certainly wanted her to do it, but Jane couldn't stand it. She needed activity and to exercise her mind. Being stuck at home with screaming kids sounded worse than a prison sentence to her.

Besides, no one struck her fancy. Jane was beginning to wonder about herself, and found no answers in her forays into casual sex. Maybe all of that went into work, and if so, she could live with the trade.

"Would you like another drink?"

"No thanks, Maura, I think I better head home."

"What's there?"

"It's mine."

"I can offer dinner. You won't have to cook, or do dishes," Maura said with a pointed look at Jane's hands, which she unconsciously and uncomfortably flexed into a variety of positions Maura recognized as attempts to stretch.

Jane weighed the offer. Nothing waited at home, except beer and some new blue stuff somebody gave her to try on her hands. She could call Marissa and ask her to take care of Joe Friday. "Sure. Impress me some more."

Maura smiled. "I'll certainly try. Do you want to follow?"

"Yeah."

"Pull into the garage beside me when we get there."

Jane was not expecting to end up where she did. Maura's house was in a neighborhood that not even the Chief of Police could afford. As instructed, she pulled into the garage, and the cop in her waited in the car until the garage door was fully down, although Maura stood impatiently at the door to the house.

"Look out for Bass," Maura cautioned after she turned off the alarm and turned on a light.

The kitchen was something out of a magazine. Her mother would think she died and went to heaven if she ever got a kitchen like this. Maura removed her heels. "Feel free to look around."

Jane took her at her word. She checked each window and door and gave the fucking huge turtle a wide berth before returning to the kitchen. A glass of wine sat on the counter for her, and Maura had three things going on the stove.

"Your home is beautiful."

"Thank you. I grew up here."

"And ran your parents off?" Jane arched one eyebrow.

"No. They died, and the job opened up, and it just seemed like a good idea to come home."

"I'm sorry."

"You didn't know." Maura returned her attention to the stove. "I didn't ask whether you have food allergies."

"Nope."

"Excellent. I think you'll like the wine."

"I like beer."

"I'll have some next time."

"What makes you think there'll be a next time?"

"Let's eat before you answer that."

Maura lived up to her challenge. Jane pushed the plate away. It was the most she'd eaten except at her mother's, and every bite was delicious. The wine was good, too, and Jane felt a warm, satisfied glow. "Consider me impressed. Any time you want to cook, call me."

"Tomorrow night?"

"I need to. Hey, wanna come to dinner at my parents' tomorrow night?" Her mother would be thrilled that Jane had a friend, a female friend who dressed like a fashion model and was a doctor to boot.

"I'm not certain that's appropriate."

"You want to be friends, right?"

"Yes," Maura answered definitively.

"Then you're gonna meet my crazy family anyway. Might as well do it now and get it over with."

"You make it sound so appealing."

"My mother is as good a cook as you are."

That piqued Maura's curiosity. "I'll go."

"Don't say I didn't warn you," Jane smirked. She yawned unexpectedly. "I should go."

"I don't think you should drive."

"I'm fine," Jane insisted.

Maura got up. She came back within a minute with a portable Breathalyzer. Jane looked at her with disbelief.

"I have your keys," Maura informed her, "and you don't get them back unless you are at least 25 percent below the legal limit."

Jane mentally counted the number of drinks she had. It was going to be close. She rolled her eyes and blew into the machine.

A few seconds after it beeped, Maura turned the readout panel to Jane. 0.07. "My guest bedroom is quite comfortable."

"I'm a terrible guest," Jane warned her.

"You are not safe to drive."

"Coffee," Jane suggested.

"Will just make you slightly more alert but no less impaired. I'll wake you in the morning." Maura moved behind her and pushed.

Jane relented. She warned Maura. Maybe a new place would help, although none of the hotels she could afford did any good. Maura reached around her and opened a door, pushed Jane a little more, and flipped the light switch.

"Your bathroom is through there," Maura pointed. "I think you'll find what you need, but if you don't, my room is across the hall. Good night, Jane."

"'Night, Maura," Jane answered distractedly. "What just happened?" she whispered to herself, and closed the door.

She sat on the bed to remove her shoes, and took off her gloves and stuffed them in her pockets before removing her pants. She threw them across the foot of the bed. Jane decided to turn off the light before getting into bed. She checked every room, including this one, earlier, and knew it was safe.

Jane turned down the covers, turned off the light, and got into bed. Maura was, again, as good as her word. The bed was amazingly comfortable, with soft sheets smelling faintly of lavender. Falling asleep was never the problem, and wasn't tonight.

But it was like any other night. Except this time, Maura grasped her hands firmly and reassured Jane that she was safe. There was no one in the house but them. The alarm was set, and included the perimeter of the yard. "You're safe. I promise," Maura reiterated.

Jane didn't understand how Maura could make that promise, and understood even less why she accepted it so readily.

"It's still quite early. I have a sleep aid if you'd like."

"Makes it worse when I can't wake up."

"I'm very sorry that happened to you. May I look at your hands?"

The surgeon and her nurses saw her hands. Her hand therapist saw her hands. No one else saw them.

"I'm not. I know they hurt and I can help," Maura said, somehow avoiding all the extra things she wanted to say. "I'm a doctor," she added.

"Oh, well, that makes it ok."

Maura focused on Jane's left hand, nearer to her.

"That was sarcasm, Maura."

"I recognize that," Maura held on until Jane stopped pulling away, then continued her examination, visualizing the damage she encountered before attempting to put even a small part of it right. She started with the base of Jane's thumb.

Jane sat flummoxed again. Maura's intentions were good, and what she was doing somehow turned off the worst of the screaming and didn't feel at all like the way any medical professionals Jane saw did. This opened a cascade of feeling, as if some gate opened and returned to her the most delicate sense of touch. It was exquisite, and it was a bit arousing, and that was _totally_ the wrong reaction.

Maura pulled her far more sensitive right hand over. She examined it the same way, deft, strong fingers allowing her to see what was underneath. On this hand, she worked on Jane's wrist, stroking both thumbs repeatedly in the same direction for several minutes before turning Jane's hand did the same thing, but with less pressure.

Jane wasn't certain why her body reacted to Maura this way. She was sleepy now, and her hands didn't hurt. "This is fucking amazing!" she told Maura with muted enthusiasm.

"Language," Maura chided.

"You have got to meet my hand therapist." Jane insisted.

"Go to sleep." Maura continued to stroke the top of Jane's right wrist, careful to stay away from the knot of scar tissue in the center of her hand. Nerve regeneration made those areas more sensitive. The body's ability to repair what it could and work around what it couldn't always amazed Maura. Any body that died slowly bore the evidence of attempts at self-correction.

She continued until she was certain Jane was asleep, but when she tried to withdraw her hand, Jane caught it.

"I thought you were asleep," Maura whispered.

"Almos'," Jane replied sleepily. "Stay."

"All right. I'm going to walk around the bed."

"K."

Maura slid into bed, but not too close. She reached out, her hand in motion until it found Jane's. "Sleep," she directed in her most professional tone.

_**~ ~ ~ end flashback ~ ~ ~ **_

"What have you learned since then?"

"Quite a bit."

"So wait a little longer and you'll learn more."

Maura smiled. It was so like Jane to counsel patience when she had little of her own. She recognized Jane's desire to move their conversation away from anything heavy and voluntarily changed the topic. "What color would you like in the bathroom?"

"What's wrong with the color it is now?"

"Nothing. As I told you before, I am considering redecorating, and want your opinion."

"I don't care what color the walls or, or what kind of carpet you buy."

"I want you to be comfortable here."

"As long as you're here, I'm fine." Jane raised her hand and cupped Maura's cheek while pushing up on her elbow. "You know that, right?"

"Yes." Maura smiled and pushed Jane's unruly hair away from her face.

Jane leaned down and kissed Maura, who immediately put both arms around Jane and pulled her down. This time, neither allowed herself to think about what they were doing, and it wasn't long before Maura's nightgown hung haphazardly off the foot of the bed and Jane's tank shirt and sleep pants were in the floor on opposite sides of the bed.

There was a moment when both feared everything would go off the rails again, but Maura tenderly kissed the still sensitive weal near the bottom of Jane's ribcage and continued to the next patch of skin. Jane's hands, which had stopped for a moment, returned to caressing Maura.


	10. Chapter 10

Maura reached without looking and turned off the alarm, then returned her hand to Jane's side. They hadn't talked much, but that was fine, since what preceded this silence was welcome.

"Guess we have to get up," Jane said without conviction, her hand sliding up and down Maura's torso.

"We still have a few minutes," Maura answered. She didn't want to move from Jane's loose hold, and leaned closer to nuzzle her neck.

"Mmmmm, you keep that up and we'll never get to work."

"That would be bad," Maura murmured.

"Very bad," Jane agreed while pulling her closer.

"Very, very bad," Maura confirmed on her way to Jane's lips. They kissed briefly before Maura rolled away and sat up. On her way to the bathroom, she asked, "Would you make coffee while I shower?"

"Sure." Jane didn't move until Maura was out of sight. Then she got up and retrieved her pajamas.

In the kitchen, she started the coffee and took care of their animals while she waited for it to brew. When it finished, she fixed a cup for each of them and took it to the bedroom. She heard the whine of the hair dryer and went into the bathroom to take her shower.

* * *

Frost looked up when Jane entered the homicide bullpen, and grinned at her strut. "Gotcha swagger back, I see."

Jane stopped in front of his desk. "What did I tell you about that?" she mock-threatened him in return.

He smirked back. "Doc's gonna have that little oomph in her walk, too."

"Don't you have a case to pay attention to?"

"Nope." Frost leaned back in his chair.

Jane rolled her eyes and muttered under her breath while she walked around her desk. "Where's Korsak?" she asked while putting down her coffee.

"Dunno. Not my turn to watch him. Keeping track of you is a full-time thing."

"So's paperwork." Jane grabbed a stack of folders, wheeled to Frost's desk, and dumped them. "Have fun."

"That's cold."

"You want the rest of them?"

Frost shook his head and rolled his eyes, and Jane returned to her desk. She went through her inbox without paying too much attention, her mind still half on the unexpected pleasure of lost sleep. For the first time since their fight, Jane believed they could repair their relationship. It wouldn't be easy, but few worthwhile things were. 'Maura is,' she thought, and spent a few more moments daydreaming before sequestering her personal life.

* * *

The week dragged. Boston's citizens seemed to be taking time off from killing each other, apart from a few gang-related incidents. Jane wasn't sure what to think of it, the stretch of days in the office without interruption. Maura was busy on cases that weren't Jane's, and that was weird, too, because Maura told her about them.

The second counseling session was no less awkward or panic inducing than the first. As she had before, Jane fidgeted in the car and in the waiting room, steadfastly ignoring Maura's warning looks.

"Anything you want to discuss this week?" their therapist opened.

Jane shook her head. She'd had all day alone at her desk to worry about what might come up this week, and snuck a glance at Maura, momentarily relieved to see her head move from side to side.

"Last week, I got the impression that your personal and professional lives are sometimes hard to separate."

"We work together," Jane shrugged. "I try not to bring stuff with me when I walk out of the station, but sometimes you can't help it."

"Your jobs are quite stressful."

"So?" Jane challenged, while Maura agreed, "They are."

"When you're together all the time, it can make it harder to separate your work lives from your personal lives."

"We're not together all the time. We don't live together," Maura explained.

"Why?"

'Aw, crap,' Jane thought. 'Now we're gonna have the money talk.'

"We haven't discussed it," Maura said. "Although I have thought about it a great deal."

Jane turned to look at her.

"I'm not sure Jane will be comfortable in my home."

"I love your house, Maura. Joe loves your house."

"We could look for a place together."

"No, Maur, it's not like that," Jane protested. "I don't care where we live. You grew up there, you're comfortable there."

"When I ask for input, you don't offer any suggestions."

Jane took a slow, deep breath. "I don't care what the house looks like. It doesn't matter what color the walls are. I only care that you're there."

"Then you'll move in?"

"No."

"Why?"

"This." Jane waved her hand between them. "Until this is fixed, or better, or whatever, I don't think it's a good idea."

"What do you think is a good idea?" Maura asked in an exasperated tone.

"What we're doing. Working on it. On us. I know I'm fucked up, Maur, and it's not fair to you if I can't give you what you deserve."

"Why do you think you know what I deserve?"

"Because you deserve the best of everything. And I'm not it."

"You don't get to decide that on your own. You don't get to make that decision without even asking me."

"You won't make it."

Maura didn't answer that.

"See?" Jane said softly. "You love me, and you won't call me on my crap."

"I call you out all the time."

Jane shook her head. "No, you don't. You let it ride until you can't any more."

"I do, don't I?" Maura asked after several silent seconds.

"Yeah, you do. Most of the time, it's fine. We work it out. But the big stuff." Jane paused while she searched for a way to put it that Maura would understand. "You just let it stay under your skin like an abscess. And ew, I don't believe I just made that analogy."

"Maura?" Lisa prompted.

"You make it hard to talk about things, Jane."

"Because we don't need to talk about them."

"_I_ need to talk about them. When you. When. That day, you." Maura stopped. "You were completely reckless, Jane. I almost lost you." Maura struggled to keep her hands still and her voice even.

"But you didn't."

"Barely."

"I'm here," Jane said calmly. "I promise I'll try to come up with a better plan if it happens again."

"I don't want to worry that it might happen again," Maura admitted.

"Then don't."

"I don't know how." Maura looked at her knees, and her voice was small.

Jane hesitated for half a second before putting her arm around Maura. She nearly forgot that they had a witness before deciding she didn't care. "Maura," she coaxed, hating the look on the other woman's face. "You didn't worry before."

"I did."

"What did you do then?" Lisa asked, keeping her voice low.

Maura blinked, then briefly closed her eyes. "I distracted myself with other things. But now they remind me, too." Maura leaned into Jane. "Not as much as they did at first, but I can still see everything, and hear everything, and sometimes I smell cordite in the morgue although I know it isn't physically possible."

"Why didn't you tell me this?" Jane asked.

"I was so worried about you. You needed to focus on getting better."

"You should've told me," Jane answered patiently.

"When? You never gave me any kind of opening. You weren't the only one there, Jane."

"I know that." Jane looked at her knees but didn't move her arm.

Maura continued to lean against her, and looked at her hands, fidgeting in her lap. Jane was being logical and calm and Maura wanted for a moment to shriek at her, to let out everything she held back.

"I'm sorry, Maura," Jane said softly.

"It's not just you, Jane. It hasn't been for a while, and I need you to act like it."

"I'm trying."

"I don't mean to sound angry."

"You're entitled." Jane squeezed Maura.

"Why is she entitled?" Lisa asked.

"Oh, uh, she just is."

"Why?" Lisa persisted, drawing Maura's attention.

"She just is," Jane repeated.

"Jane," Maura cautioned.

Jane removed her arm from around Maura and ran her hand through her hair. "I put Maura through a lot."

"Intentionally?"

"No," Jane replied indignantly. "Shit just seems to happen around me."

"Because you dive into it head first," Maura said.

"It must affect you, too."

"Yeah, but I have the city shrink for that."

"That's a lot of talking, Jane," Lisa observed

"You'd think," Jane answered.

"You don't strike me as someone who talks just to hear her voice."

Jane shrugged, and ignored both the comment and the return of Maura's curiosity. She was familiar with silence as an interview gambit, and wasn't going to bite on this attempt. She did discuss some things with the department shrink, and wanted them to stay in his office. What Maura said concerned her, and took her back to their fight. She told Jane the same thing that night, that Maura felt she couldn't bring up the subject on her own, and turned to Maura with her own question. "Why do I have to bring it up? Why can't you tell me what you're thinking or how you're feeling?"

"I'm not accustomed to speaking about my feelings."

"You talk about any and everything else."

"Deflection," Maura explained.

"That's a good policy if you wanna be the Bruins' goalie. Otherwise not so much."

"I know."

"I can't read your mind."

"I know."

"And I am no good at subtle."

"I know," Maura repeated, but smiled this time. "You are very good at subtle."

"Deflection," Jane pointed out. "Just tell me. Whatever it is."

Maura was quiet, trying to order her thoughts. Most of the past year was a jumble to her. She was just beginning to return to her routine, to not see shadows everywhere.

_**~ ~ ~ flashback ~ ~ ~**_

The first week she returned to work, Maura went in early, through the ambulance bay, unable to face the sidewalk, the new glass and new security measures, everything that happened. The autopsy bay was difficult enough. Memories streamed around her while Maura calmed herself with the ritual of cleaning, disinfecting, and sterilizing.

Her hands stopped shaking after an hour, but Maura didn't notice. She tried to let the physical act of cleaning and restoring order to her workspace work psychically. She boned up on post-traumatic stress after meeting Jane, and understood intellectually what instinct pushed her to do. Her leave was up, and Jane was recovering, and even Angela pushed her to go back.

It was so hard to leave her for a moment, even though Maura was now certain Jane would recover completely. The terror that gripped her from the moment she realized what Jane was going to do was still present. It receded, but gnawed at her. She knew what a near thing it was, Jane's survival, and Maura wanted to bask in it.

"Doc," Frost called as he pushed through the double doors.

Maura looked up. "Good morning, Barry."

"You're supposed to be upstairs."

"Why would I be upstairs? There are no meetings scheduled."

"Uh, just come with me, all right."

"I should change." Maura looked down at her scrubs.

Barry Frost grinned at her sartorial discomfort. "No time," he insisted, and entered the morgue. "When did you come in, anyway?"

"Early," Maura answered vaguely, and tried to resist Frost's insistent pull. "Barry, what's going on?"

"You're one of us, so there's a welcome back party," he sighed.

"You must let me change," Maura insisted.

"Nope, it'll be good for them to see you like this." He got Maura into the hallway, and that made it easier. In the elevator, he held out his hands. "Gloves."

Maura removed them silently and handed them to him. "How's my hair?"

"You look fine," he reassured her as the door slid open.

Her surprise was genuine when the door opened and the entire homicide division cheered her. There was cake and a series of brief conversations, each officer making a point of speaking to her until only Korsak and Frost were left, Maura seated between their desks, Jane's in her peripheral vision.

"You came in through the back, didn't you?" Korsak asked.

"Yes."

He nodded. Frost swallowed hard. That had been another in a series of difficult firsts, walking up the steps, past the spot where Jane landed, trying not to look. He scanned the rooftops, a new habit, before entering the hastily replaced door, passing the crew installing metal detectors after he'd been vetted by a young patrolman stationed just inside the door.

"You need to face it," Korsak told her.

"I know." Maura stood. "I need to get back to work. Thank you."

"You're welcome, but it wasn't my idea."

"Whose?"

"Crowe." Frost grinned at her. "D'you believe it? He said you saved two cops in one day, even if they were Rizzolis."

"He's right," Korsak added.

"Don't let him hear you say that," Maura answered absently, and quickly left, averting her eyes from Jane's untouched desk.

Not even the routine of preparing the morgue to work could distract her. Maura went to her office, where a whole other set of memories overtook her. Hiding under her desk until Jane came. Knowing she would. Not expecting anything beyond that, and certainly not improvised surgery, or being witness to a murder, and nearly a victim herself. Jane putting herself between them and Marino.

After that, there were only snapshots standing out from the haze of disbelief. Things happened that she wasn't entirely prepared for. Angela and Frank Rizzoli's acceptance that she waited with them, stoic, for the hours it took surgeons to tell them that both siblings were resting comfortably and would survive. Maura remembered her own astonishment when she first saw Jane and bypassed her chart in favor of touching her, unconsciously counting the pulse in Jane's throat while kissing her forehead. In her relief, Maura couldn't hide how she felt, and it seemed from the lack of reaction around her that she didn't need to.

Frankie was awake first, and Maura's relief was matched by Frankie's. "You saved my life. Anything you want. Anything, it's yours."

"I want you to live a long and happy life," Maura answered, surprised when their handshake turned into a hug.

After, he asked, "How's Janey? Nobody will tell me anything."

"She's recovering."

"Is she gonna be ok?"

"As far as I can tell," Maura answered truthfully.

Frankie wasn't certain whether her brevity was a good thing.

"You'd tell me, right?"

"I would. Your sister shows improvement every day. She is recovering from a serious injury, as are you," Maura said pointedly, "which requires rest and time to heal properly."

"I got it," Frankie answered, with the blinding smile that all of the Rizzolis had.

"Good. So I'll leave you to it."

Frankie held on for a few seconds longer, forcing Maura to look at him again. "I mean it, Maura. Anything. All you gotta do is ask."

She nodded and pulled away before he could see her start to cry, and stopped in a bathroom on her way back to Jane's room to recover her equilibrium.

That was by no means the first time that the Rizzoli family overwhelmed her. At first, Jane alone overwhelmed Maura, who didn't entirely understand what was happening between them. She was for a long time uneasy about their seeming acceptance of her, quirks and all. Over time, her suspicion faded. Jane loved her family and her family loved her; Jane loved Maura, so her family, once they were satisfied that Maura was "good people," loved Maura, too. It was no gradual process; each member of Jane's family assessed her, and nodded approval.

"_What if they don't like me?" Maura asked again while parking in front of Jane's parents' home. _

"_Whaddya mean?"_

"_I've never done anything like this before."_

"_First time for everything," Jane smiled broadly. "It'll be fine, I promise," she added with a wink._

_Maura had to smile back._

"_Ma!" Jane yelled as they entered the house._

"_Kitchen."_

_Maura followed Jane through the small house, trying to catch details as they moved, and watched Jane greet her mother. "Hey, Ma." Jane kissed Angela's cheek. _

"_Hi, Janey. Who's your friend?"_

"_Ma, this is Dr. Maura Isles. Maura, this is my Ma, Angela Rizzoli."_

"_So nice to meet you."_

"_What kind of doctor?"_

"_She's the medical examiner, Ma. What're we having?"_

"_Gnocchi."_

"_Do you need any help, Mrs. Rizzoli?"_

"_Jane's friends usually call me Ma, sweetie. And no, I don't need help, although it's nice of you to offer, unlike the hooligan I raised."_

"_Ma, don't start. We'll set the table."_

"_You don't need help setting the table."_

_Jane smirked at her. "You wanna bet the china on that?"_

"_I'm happy to help," Maura chimed in. "Whatever you need."_

"_Thank you, dear," Angela answered._

_Dinner was a swirl of multiple conversations, with Jane giving her the occasional prompt to join. They left as soon as they finished eating, and Angela complained about it while Jane said goodbye._

_In the car, Jane smiled at her while they buckled in. "You survived."_

"_I did."_

"_So you won't be nervous next time."_

"_I'll probably be nervous for a while," Maura admitted. "That's a lot to take in."_

"_They grow on you," Jane answered. "Like fungus, but in a nice way. Usually."_

_Maura laughed, and headed back toward town._

She doubted, given their history, that it would be the last. For people who wore so much on the surface, all of the Rizzolis were, as Maura once described Jane, "deceptively complex." The thing that puzzled Maura most of all was their immediate and wholehearted acceptance of her. It was not anything in her pantheon of experience. She was accustomed to being left behind – first by her parents, later by classmates as she surpassed them to become the youngest by far in both high school and college, by people who professed to be friends but actually drifted into then out of her life – but Jane was solid. Dependable. Sincere. Loyal. Maura once, completely by accident, overheard Jane dressing down a pair of uniformed officers who said something uncomplimentary about her.

"Don't 'yes ma'am' me, you jerks. Maura Isles is the Chief Medical Examiner for the State of Massachusetts. She worked her ass off to get there. You show her, and her office some respect, or I will personally make certain you never, ever get off traffic detail. Am I clear?"

There was no answer, and a moment later, Maura heard a thud that sounded suspiciously like a body hitting the wall.

"I said," Jane growled, "do you understand?"

"Yes, ma'am," the uniforms answered in unison.

"Get outta here."

Maura waited a few seconds more, and was glad she did.

"Whatever you're thinkin' about me," Jane called after them, "I all ready heard worse."

When Maura saw her, Jane was rubbing her forehead. "Feeling all right?" Maura asked.

Jane dropped her hand and smiled. "Yeah, just a little headache."

"Have you eaten?"

"Not yet."

"I'll buy you lunch."

"I'd like that."

"I heard you," Maura told her while they waited for their orders.

"You heard me what?"

"Talking to those officers."

"Ignore them."

"I do. You should, too."

"Disrespectful punks."

"What did they say?"

Jane shook her head.

"I've heard it all."

"Queen of the Dead."

"I suppose I am, in a way."

"It's not right," Jane insisted.

"It's fine," Maura answered, and squeezed Jane's forearm. "Thank you for standing up for me."

"It's what friends do," Jane answered, shrugging off Maura's thanks, but the smile, one Maura was coming to believe Jane displayed only to her, said so much more.

_**~ ~ ~ end flashback ~ ~ ~**_

"I want," Maura began slowly, "to feel safe again. To not worry that you won't return. I want to believe you."

"But," Jane prompted.

"I don't," Maura said sadly. "I don't believe that you won't leave."

"I'm here, aren't I?"

"Why?"

Jane tilted her head to one side for a few seconds why worked out what Maura asked. "I love you," she answered matter of factly. "Where else would I be?"

Maura accepted the tissue that appeared in her field of vision.

"I'm not goin' anywhere. I promise. I'm not gonna leave." Jane lowered her head, trying to catch Maura's eye. "You're stuck with me and my crazy family and my annoying dog and all of Boston Homicide. You're one of us. I'm not ever gonna let anything happen to you, and we're, none of us is gonna do that you."

"You can't say that."

"I did, and I'll keep sayin' it until you believe me."

"Maura," Lisa prompted after Maura had her emotions back in check, "why won't you accept that?"

"All my life," Maura answered evenly, "everyone who professed to feel affection for me left me to fend for myself. People I wanted to stay close remained at a distance. Later, it seemed that people didn't want me as much as they wanted something from me, and once they got it, they left, too. I have no reason to believe this is any different."

"Jesus, Maura, really? Really?" Jane challenged her.

"Yes, really. What am I supposed to think, Jane, when you immediately return to the same behaviors that brought us here?"

"I don't even know where to start," Jane sighed tiredly. "All I can say is, I'm here. I'm here and I'm not goin' anywhere."

"We'll see," Maura answered.


End file.
